


It Was Always Burning, Since the World's Been Turning

by its_stupidhours



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, And being in a shitty boy band together, And being in love with each other, Battle of the Bands, Bro wheres Brian's tag i dont know his last name, Coming Out, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Supportive Dad, the inherent homoeroticism of being highschool himbos together, they're idiots and they're in high school what more do you need
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22589029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_stupidhours/pseuds/its_stupidhours
Summary: “Wait, did I not mention that part?”“... What part?"“I, uh, signed us both up for the Battle of the Bands.”“Ethan.”“What?”“Ethan, neither of us know how to play an instrument.”Or, in which Ethan and Mark start an (incredibly, INCREDIBLY shitty) band together (mostly by accident, though still mostly Ethan's fault) and are now competing against their friends in the biggest and most competitive battle of the Bands their high school has ever seen (this was also an accident, but Ethan would like to blame Mark for this one). Also they're both idiots who don't realize they like each other. What could go wrong?
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 45
Kudos: 184





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my very first RPF fic! That I made a whole new ao3 account to write bc I didn't want to rpf on main because I'm a coward. 
> 
> Disclaimer: This is not meant to disrespect to Mark, Ethan, Amy, or Mika in any way, I 100% respect the relationships they're in and I hope they stay in them and are happy together for a long, long time. I don't think that Mark and Ethan ever have been, currently are, or probably ever will be in a relationship, I just wanted to write something and have fun. If you or anyone you know is listed as a character in this fic then what!! Are you doing here?!??!??? Please turn back now how did you even get this far please leave now you weren't meant to read this.
> 
> Special thanks to the crankiplier discord server for sitting through me infodumping abt my ideas for fics and for responding to my bullshit and keeping me going. Love yall!
> 
> This first chapter is mainly just exposition and the works, the good shit™ (aka the Real Pining™) starts a bit later. I'm really just trying to get back into the groove of writing here, since it's been like 4(??) months since I last wrote a fic. I hope you enjoy!

**Riverside Central High School’s 7th Annual Battle of the Bands!**

Can you music? Good, I heckin’ hope so. Because _I_ want _you_ to sign up for this year’s Battle of the Bands! 

The drama! The competition!! The glory!!! The _stardom_!!!! Imagine, you and your buddies on stage, nothing but a guitar, a piano, drums or something, I don’t know what’s in a band, I just write the poster. Singing your guts out on stage for all the school to hear! (Or, like, a good, albeit small fraction of the school, anyways.) 

Bands must perform at least two songs and consist of two or more people, all of whom must be a Sophomore or above. Any bands who do not meet those specifications will not be allowed to enter or perform. Please sign up, registration is in the cafeteria or the music hall for this week and next week only! I know Mr. Scott said not to say that we’re desperate for performers but seriously guys, we’re desperate. Don’t make this a repeat of last year. 

Hope to see you on the stage!

* * *

“Oh, I signed up for that Battle of the Bands thing today,” Ethan said, reaching over Mark to grab some popcorn.

Mark glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “Did you now?”

Ethan and Mark were sitting on the couch in the older boy’s basement playing Mario Kart. Ethan was winning by a landslide, having chosen to gloat his victory by stealing the bowl of popcorn Mark’s mom had brought down hours ago; now empty, it sat on his head like a make-shift crown. Or, well, it _did_ . Mark had knocked it off in a joking fit of rage during the last race and threw it across the room, dramatically yelling something along the lines of “DON’T _GOO_ ME LIKE THAT, BRO” as Ethan tried his best not to faint from how hard he was laughing. 

Picking out their carts for the next round now, they were significantly calmer (though they would still both burst out into random fits of giggles every few seconds) and had scored a new bowl of popcorn from upstairs. Ethan nodded as he reached over to grab some more. 

“Yeah! I mean, this is the first year I can do it, and it seems like a lot of fun. Honestly, I don’t know why _you_ haven’t done it yet, you’re a junior and it seems like your type of thing.”

“It’s not.”

Ignoring him, Ethan continued on. “It just seems fun! So why— _why are you glaring at me like that?_ ”

Mark scoffed, snatching the bowl from Ethan and throwing a handful of popcorn at him. “You do realize literally nobody goes to those, right? They are literally _infamously_ bad. I mean, you were _there_ last year, you _know_ —” 

“Sure, I ‘know’, but do I really ‘ _know’_?”

“What’s that even mean?”

“ _Exactly._ ” Ethan raised his eyebrows, tilting his head so he was looking up at Mark with a stupid smirk on his face. “If I actually perform in it, I not only get to cross something off my bucket list—”

“ _Why_ is that on your bucket list—”

“But I also! Also! Shut up.” Ethan put down his controller with a glare and leaned back into the couch to try and appear more confident. It didn’t work. Mark raised his eyebrow. “As I was _saying_ , not only would I be able to do something that I’ve wanted to do for a while, but I'd also, like, actually give them a band. For their band competition. Thing. Because they need one of those to have a show.”

“Yeah, that’s… That’s kinda how those work.” Mark put his controller down too, the game now forgotten. “But don’t you need more than one person to have a band? Isn’t that literally one of the rules?”

“Yeah, of course!”

“Then how can you perform if it’s just you? Sorry, buddy, but I don’t think your dreams will come true this time.”

“Wait, did I not mention that part?”

“... What part?”

“I, uh, signed us _both_ up for the Battle of the Bands.”

“Ethan.”

“What?”

“Ethan, _neither of us know how to play an instrument._ ”

Ethan scoffed, then scooted up on the couch to the point where he almost fell to the floor, then scoffed louder. “I mean, _technically_ —”

“I play the trumpet. That is the absolute limit of our combined musical talent.”

“And I sing! We both sing! Mediocrely, sure, but it’s still singing.”

“But that still isn’t a band! What were you thinking?!”

Ethan winced exaggeratingly and threw his arms out in a wide shrug. “I don’t know! You tell me!”

Mark stared at his friend for a beat, Ethan keeping his arms up as the silence grew more and more awkward. Mark never moved. Ethan put his arms down in defeat. 

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“Yeah I fucking knew it.” While the words were harsh, the older boy’s shake of his head and his tone were joking enough that they drew a snort out of Ethan. 

“But imagine! We’ll be stars! The two hottest boys in the school making an even _hotter_ band together, _god_ , Mark, the crowds will be raving! Girls will be swooning! Maybe _everyone_ will be swooning,” Ethan said, dropping his voice and wriggling his eyebrows on the last part. “We’ll finally be popular! Wouldn’t you like that, Markimoo?”

“I—” Mark laughed, attempting to shoot a glare at Ethan’s smug face, but the state of his own just made the younger boy laugh harder. “Get that _fucking smirk_ off your face, first of all, second of all, I’m already popular! Everyone’s _already_ swooning over me and you know it! That’s just you, man.”

“Jeez, you don’t have to rub it in.”

“I’m not, I’m just stating the truth.”

“Well, anyways, now we’ve gotta commit to it. No matter what it takes.” Ethan turned to pick up his controller again, pointedly looking away as he said his next part. “Mainly because I’ve already turned all the paperwork, which included an, um, upfront fee to be able to —”

“Wait a damn second, you _paid_ for this bullshit?” Mark, who had started to reach for his controller as well, immediately dropped it to stare at his friend. “And you hadn’t even told me about this yet?” He barked out a laugh as the other boy just sighed and looked down at his controller. “Wow, Ethan, I knew you were stupid but _this_ is something else entirely.”

“Hey, I’m telling you now!”

“ _After you paid._ How much was it anyways? $30 or something? I can pay you back if you want. _”_

“I— _$30?_ ” Ethan looked up, but the sharp movement caused him to finally fall off the couch onto the floor. He barely seemed to register the fall though, the incredulous look he was giving Mark wiping out the expression of any other emotion he could have been feeling. “How expensive do you think this school is?”

“Shut up, I’m poor, I don’t have a good grasp on monetary values.”

“Mark, you are the literally the richest person in this neighborhood. And it was $6.45.”

“That’s… oddly specific.”

“Well, it would have been $10, but Jack was in charge of the sign-ups and he still owed me from that time I bought him Dairy Queen.”

“Of course.” Shaking his head again, Mark smiled and sighed, then stuck his hand out to help his friend back on to the couch. He picked up his controller again and finally started the race, stifling a laugh as he saw Ethan scramble to get ready out of the corner of his eye. They quickly fell back into the groove they were in before, laughing at the stupid jokes they each made, reverting back to goo jokes, quickly agreeing to not laugh at the goo jokes anymore, then laughing at the goo jokes again even sooner. Mark eventually won the round, loudly cheering for himself as Ethan laughed and slow-clapped in the background. Still laughing, the younger boy picked up the second, now also empty popcorn bowl and placed it on Mark’s head, before running to the corner where the first one had fallen and placing that one on back his own.

“Look!” he said, still laughing his ass off, “We’re matching! We’re the Kings of Mario Kart!”

“The Kings of Goo!”

They both nearly fell over from laughing that time, both of the bowls falling off.

* * *

Ethan glanced over to his phone, which was ringing. _Why_ Mark was calling him at this hour was a mystery to him, but he picked it up anyways. Maybe it was something important! Probably not, with Mark, but you never know. “Hey dude, what’s up?”

“Oh wait shit, I didn’t mean to call, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. We’re here now anyways.” Ethan put his pencil down next to him, putting his phone closer to his ear in an attempt to be more comfortable. “So, again, what’s up?”

“It’s just — about that band thing again…”

“Mhmm? What about it?”

Ethan was sitting on his bed, trying (and failing, quite miserably) to finish his math homework. They had finished playing Mario Kart hours before, and now Ethan was catching up on work instead of catching up on sleep. His eyes would like it to be known that they did not consent to this idea and would have liked to have been closed as soon as the pencil was placed down. Ethan ignored this motion, of course, in favor of listening to Mark as he continued to speak. “Well, first of all, _fuck you_. We’ve got, what, a month? Maybe more? To learn how to be good at instruments we’ve never played before.”

“Yeah, I’m… aware. You’ve told me this several times already. Please get to your point.”

“Also: the name. The band needs a name. ‘Mark and Ethan’ has no ring to it, and I know for a fact that’s what you put on the papers.”

“Wha- no! It’s not!”

“‘Ethan and Mark’, then.”

“Maybe!”

A laugh filtered through the phone, soft and deep, as if Mark was trying his best not to wake anyone else up in his house. Which would make sense, seeing that it was almost midnight at that point. “So. Name ideas. You’re the one that got us into this mess so I’m hoping you have _something_ , at least. 

“Uhh…” Ethan paused, thinking. It wasn’t like he _hadn’t_ thought about a band name; quite the opposite, really. He had racked his brain to figure something out while he was filling out the paperwork, it wasn’t his fault that “Ethan and Mark” was the only thing that actually stuck. Also, Mark wasn’t there when he signed up, so Ethan didn’t have a way to figure out a name that they both liked. But there _was_ one idea that had really stuck with him… 

“Maybe something Latin?”

“Maybe somethi—” There was a sigh from the other end of the line; Ethan could almost see the older boy pinching his nose in exasperation.

“What? It’ll be cool! We’ve just gotta figure out the right phrase.”

“Ethan, neither of us take Latin.”

“So? We’ve got Google, that’s good enough.” Ethan was already scrambling over the edge of his bed to reach for his charging laptop, trying his best to keep his phone in his hand. “Just— hold on, I’m looking something up now.” Clicking on the first link that popped up when he typed in “cool latin phrases”, he started to read from the list.

“‘Auribus Teneo Lupum.’ Holding a wolf by the ears.”

“Ok, first of all, way too long, _second_ of all, I am one of the most popular people in this school and I don’t want my reputation tainted by being called a furry.”

“Harsh. But you’re right about the length part, I’d never remember that.” Ethan kept scrolling, brow furrowing as he continued to read the list and their meanings. “All of these are way too long — wait, no, how about this: ‘Brutum Fulmen.’ Literally means ‘senseless thunderbolt.’”

“And _figuratively_ means?”

“... ‘Empty threat.’”

“Not badass enough. Next one.”

“Dude, we’re _never_ gonna get a name if you keep shooting them down.”

“We’ve only been through two! Keep going, I think we’re getting close.”

“Fine, fine!” Ethan clicked away to another website, skimming through the list until he found a couple of names that were reasonable.

“‘Carpe Noctem.’ Seize the night.”

“Too emo.”

“‘Carpe _Vinum_.’ Seize the _wine_.”

“You know what? Almost. You’re within the city the baseball game is being held, but not quite on the field yet.”

“Am I shooting for home base?”

There was a pause on Mark’s end of the line, short enough that it might have not meant anything, but long enough that it was noticeable. Then the older boy cleared his throat quietly, continuing on in the same joking tone as before, “As I said, not even on the field yet.”

Ethan paused too, trying to get his mind back on track, blinking his eyes several times as he focused on the website again. “Uhh… how about this: ‘Memento Mori.’ Remember death.”

“Symbolic. I like it. We’re getting closer.”

“And ‘Carpe Noctem’ was ‘ _too emo?_ ’ What are your standards for what’s emo and what’s not?”

“That’s not— That’s not important right now. Also ‘Memento Mori’ is cooler, you can’t deny that.”

“True, true.” There was another pause as Ethan kept scrolling, then clicked away and found another website, scrolling though that one, too.

“Anything?”

“Patience is a virtue, Mark.”

“Not one that I have.”

“Ok, shut up, I’ve found another: ‘Unus Annus.’ One year.”

“That’s… cryptic. I like it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! It’s short, sounds cool, plus anybody’s who’s gonna be bothered to look it up will be like ‘oooh what’s that mean? “One year??” oooh spooky.’”

Ethan laughed, covering his mouth quickly as he remembered that people were still sleeping. “Nobody’s gonna say that, Mark.”

“You never know! There are infinite alternate universes out there, so in at least one of them, someone will say _exactly that_ in response to looking up our band’s name.” 

Nodding, Ethan closed his laptop and put it back down to where it was charging. “Maybe so.”

“ _Absolutely_ so.”

“I guess this means I have to tell Jack we changed our band name?”

“Obviously. Besides, I doubt he’ll mind, you signed up today and I’m pretty sure we’re the only band on the roster right now.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Ethan looked over at his (still unfinished) math homework, eventually deciding to just shove it back into his backpack and worry about it tomorrow. His eyes might have a point about this “sleep” thing. “Unus Annus, huh? This band is gonna take this school by storm.”

“ _Of course_ it will. It’s got me in it.”

“And me!”

“And you, yes. How could we _not_ win?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hrnrnggrgngngrg feelings,,,

_SLAM_ “Ethan.”

The boy in question nearly fell out of his seat with how high he jumped. Other people in the cafeteria turned to look at the source of the loud noise, quickly going back to their own conversations when they realized they had better things to think about. 

“Amy! Jesus _christ_ don’t do that, you’ll break your tray.”

Sitting down next to Ethan, Amy absentmindedly picked her ketchup packets and put them back on her tray, because they had fallen off when she slammed it down onto the table. Still fixing her jostled food, she continued to speak. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve done it before. The lunch ladies don’t really care.”

“You’ve— _what_ —”

“That’s not really important right now. I just want to hear about this band you’ve apparently started with Mark. He seems excited. And since he doesn’t have this lunch and is subsequently not here to explain what the _hell_ he’s been talking about all morning, because he’s apparently good enough at rambling excitedly that he’ll go on for hours about it without ever actually telling me any information, I’m going to ask you.”

Brian, the only other person at the table, scoffed. “Mark’s excited about something? That he’s doing with Ethan?” The other boy glared at him. “I mean— no offence, dude—”

“A fair amount has been taken.”

“I just didn’t think he hung out with you that much.”

“You are pretty much my only other friend. You do know this right? If I’m not with you, I’m with Mark and/or his gang, so we do hang out a good bit.”

“As part of his ‘gang’, I can attest to that,” Amy added. 

“Okay, okay, that’s… A _good bit_ , yeah.” Brian winked, earning a confused scoff and a soft slap on the arm from the other boy. “I forgot you weren’t popular, to be honest. Hard thing to remember when you apparently _started a band with Mark Fischbach._ And then didn’t tell me about it.”

“I mean, I practically did! You saw me go over to Jack’s table and sign up for the Battle of the Bands!”

“I thought you were kidding!”

“Wait wait wait, hold on,” Amy butted in again. Her eyebrows were raised, disbelief written across her face. “This is for the _Battle of the Bands?_ Weren’t you, like, one of the only people who actually saw what happened last year? I mean, I’ve heard stories, but you? You _know_.” She laughed good naturedly, ignoring Ethan’s immediate eye-roll. “How did you even get him to agree to that?”

“I, uh, I didn’t?”

“Oh my _god_ did you not _tell him_?” Brian was laughing now, too. 

“I did! Several hours after I signed us up for it, sure, but I did tell him! Eventually!”

Amy and Brian were trying their best to contain their laughter (however terribly) while Ethan simply sat in between the two of them, a slightly offended look on his face.

“Do you even know how to play an instrument?” Amy asked.

“I— We’ll learn!”

“You have a _month_.”

“We know! Don’t doubt our abilities, Nelson. We’re gonna win this competition if it’s the last thing we do.”

“Is it really a competition though?” Brian had finally calmed down, and stole a fry off Ethan’s tray as he asked the question. “I don’t think there’s any other bands performing. Can’t be a competition if you’re not competing. That’s just a shitty show.”

“Are you calling me shitty?”

“I mean… yeah? Not _you_ , exactly,” Brian added quickly as he saw the look on Ethan's face, “But your musical abilities for sure. And Mark’s. No offence. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

“Fuck you.”

Their banter continued for another few minutes, eventually devolving into a small food fight between the two that involved Ethan _somehow_ getting ketchup in his hair despite neither of them having any. He rushed to the bathroom to wash it out, and it was only when he sat back down that either of them noticed the obvious.

“Wait, where’d Amy go?”

They looked around the sparse cafeteria (3rd lunch didn’t have as many people as anyone who did have it would have liked) until they noticed her standing by a table on the other side of the room. Ethan only recognized Kathryn and Mika from the group sitting there, as he was pretty good friends with both, and they were the only two who seemed to actually be talking to Amy. Suddenly, Amy looked up directly at the boys, the other two girls following suit, each with identical grins on their faces, like they were keeping a secret from them.

“I do not like that look on their faces,” said Brian.

“You’re telling me.”

The boys watched as they all stood up and started moving across the room, chatting and laughing amongst themselves before finally stopping at… Jack’s table. 

“Oh god no.”

Brian laughed. “Oh god _yes_.” 

Jack had been sitting by himself at a small, long table against one of the walls, facing out to the crowd. A huge handwritten poster taped against the front of the table read “BotB sign-ups here!! (please) (it won’t be like last year we promise)” and there was a stack of paperwork next to Jack’s (now empty, he’d been sitting there for three lunch periods) tray, though it seemed like everyone was giving the whole set-up a wide berth. When the girls stopped in front of the table, Jack didn’t notice them at first, clearly not expecting anyone to stop there. It took him about a minute, but once he looked up from his phone, he was so surprised he fell out of his chair. 

There was fear in his eyes as he sat back up, looking between the three girls who were signing their paperwork and Brian and Ethan.

Brian, who was laughing his ass off at this point, and Ethan, whose head was in his hands, groaning.

A couple minutes passed, then Amy was back at their table. She slammed the completed paperwork down in front of Ethan as dramatically as she could muster, laughing as Ethan only groaned more.

“Well, here’s your competition. Good luck, buddy.”

“I hate you. All three of you”

Kathryn laughed. “No you don’t.”

Ethan picked his head up and glared. “It’s the thought that counts.”

* * *

“How about this one?” Mark triumphantly pulled out another guitar from the rack, tossing the strap over his shoulder, then turning to face Ethan and posing. “I think it brings out my eyes.”

The younger boy looked him up and down. “I… really don’t think bright pink is the vibe we’re going for here.”

Mark pouted, dejectedly placing the vibrant guitar back in its place. “You’re no fun. We’re here to get instruments for our shitty boy band! Why can’t the instruments be shitty, too?”

“I never said the pink guitar was shitty! Just not the right vibe.”

“ _Fine,_ fine, I’ll find an instrument that fits our ‘vibe’ or whatever.” He continued to pout dramatically as he paced in front of the rack of guitars again, a glint in his eye giving away his need to laugh. The two were in their local music store after school that day to try and find something to actually make music with. Mark had joked that since they actually had someone to compete against, they really needed to step up their game, but the serious undertone in his voice was strong enough that Ethan sighed and took out his phone, quickly pulling up directions to the nearest place that sold guitars. 

Ethan had already picked out a keyboard for himself and put it back in Mark’s car; it was nothing too fancy. He would have gone with the cheapest one possible, but Mark had pulled him back when he was at the register to stop him, exchanging his keyboard for one a couple steps up, saying that “if we can’t have talent, we can at least have _quality_ ” and “yes I know you’re broke as hell, that’s why I’m gonna pay for it” and “stop looking at me like that— did you just call me your _sugar daddy??_ Oh my god, _please_ never say those words in reference to me again.” (“Am I wrong though?” _“YES???”_ ) 

Which brought them back to where they were now — Mark slowly pacing in front of the rack of guitars on display, Ethan standing behind him shooting out jokes and shooting down pretty much every guitar the other boy had showed off so far. 

“Please just choose one, I do have homework I need to do.”

“Like you’ll actually do it,” Mark said, touching one of the guitars as if contemplating pulling it out fully to examine it, but instead moving on at the last second. “And how am I supposed to choose if you keep shooting down all the ones I’m picking out?”

“It’s payback for the band name. You’re just not in the ballpark yet.” Ethan smirked, despite the older boy’s back being to him, then finally walking up to the rack himself. He looked over some of the instruments in front of him, pulling down the first one that caught his eye. “How about this one?”

“It’s black and white. That’s boring.”

“Maybe so, but it’s a _vibe_. Maybe it can be ours?” He wriggled his eyebrows playfully. “We can make it interesting.”

“Oh my—” Mark cut himself off with a laugh, taking the guitar from Ethan’s hands. “Yeah, we’re definitely gonna make it _interesting_ , alright.” Tossing the strap over his shoulder, he posed again, somehow even more dramatically than last time, a new smirk on his face. 

Sunlight from a window behind him filtered through Mark’s hair, making it seem like he was _glowing_ , almost, and for a split-second, Ethan would have said he was beautiful. There was a stirring feeling in the younger boy’s gut as they made eye contact, and he thought back on what Brian had said earlier that day — that Ethan and Mark hung out “a _good bit_ , yeah.” With a wink. There was something behind those words, like Brian knew something that Ethan didn’t, like he thought… Wait a second. 

Like he thought Ethan liked Mark.

Which he _didn’t_.

Right?

…

_Right?_

The second passed, and Ethan was pulled back into reality by Mark snapping his finger in front of his face. “Earth to Ethan? You awake in there, dude?”

“Wha— Oh, yeah! Yeah, sorry, spaced out for a sec, you know how it is.”

“Of course, yeah.” Mark smiled, taking the guitar off and feeling it in his hands. “You know, I think this is the one. It’s really starting to grow on me.” He smiled again, brighter this time, looking up at Ethan and _oh god_ there was the feeling again, Ethan could feel his face start to heat up oh god _why_ was this happening, why now, why _Mark_ , of all people — “You made a good choice with this one, I think.”

“I- uh- th- thanks! Thanks, I tried my best.”

“Sure you did.” Another smirk brought another internal panic to the younger boy, and he barely noticed Mark checking out until he was being dragged by his arm back to the car. They both double-checked that both instruments were placed in a way that they wouldn’t get crushed (or crush anything else, because despite all evidence to the contrary Mark claimed that there were _some_ valuable things hidden in the mess that was his car’s backseat and trunk) and finally plopped down into their seats, Ethan doing his best to expel the thoughts he was currently crossing over from his mind. 

“Want to go get some ice cream?” Mark asked, starting the car. “Or do homework, I forgot you’ve got that too. So do I, actually.” He paused, furrowing his brow. 

“We could eat ice cream and do homework? My bag’s in the car and my dad doesn't care how long we take so long as it’s not a gymnastics day, he trusts you.”

Mark beamed, nodding, unintentionally bringing Ethan’s thoughts crashing back to the forefront of his mind again. “Sounds great! Though I still don’t exactly know why he trusts _me_ , of all people.”

“It’s the Fischbach aura. Captivates all that it comes across.” Ethan immediately froze, all thoughts converting to the exact same message: _what the actual FUCK did you just say._

But Mark just laughed, pulling onto the road. He didn’t seem to notice anything wrong with what the younger boy just said, because that’s just how Ethan is. Or maybe he was just too focused on driving. Either way, Ethan let out an internal sigh of relief that his apparent crush ( _no not_ crush _, what the hell? No, I don’t like him, he’s not cute, or hot, or_ anything _, shut_ up _, brain_ ) had gone unnoticed. 

He just hoped it stayed that way long enough to win the competition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the only time I've ever posted a fic and didn't have ANYTHING pre-written, I'm just posting as I write, and I'm. Very scared that I won't be able to finish. I really want to finish. Please wish me luck on this journey. Also the boys, the boys need your luck, too


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the most susceptible to be revised thus far, seeing as I wrote it in under two days and edited it in under five. Minutes
> 
> Also they're (read: Mark is) being extra as all hell in the second part and I still don't know what to do about it, but as Ethan says in this chapter, I've opened this can of worms, now I've got to lie in it. No going back now.

“Do… do you even know what you’re doing? At all?”

“Does it fucking look like it, man?”

Ethan was glaring at the music sheet in front of him as Mark looked over at him from where he had paused fiddling with his guitar. They had decided on one of their songs after an hour-long youtube search during that ice cream trip the week before, Mark claiming that “Video Killed the Radio Star” sounded simple enough that they could learn it (or a simplified version of it, at least) relatively quickly, and that Ethan’s voice would compliment it well enough. The other boy quickly nodded his head, too busy trying his best to hide the blush that had suddenly sprouted on his face to attempt to give an argument against the idea. Now, they were back in Mark’s basement, as they had been after school every day the past few days, working together on learning the music. The fact that Ethan hadn’t touched his keyboard had gone unnoticed. Until now. 

“We’ve been doing this for almost a _week,"_ said Mark. "You’ve got to know _something,_ right?”

“I know the words! All of them!”

“And that’s it?”

“Maybe!”

Mark gave him a blank look, to which Ethan shrugged and grinned, quickly turning back to the music sheet in his hands. 

“It’s just- this is hard! Look at this, I have no idea what this even _means._ ” Flapping his hands wildly from the paper to the keyboard and back again, Ethan managed to look more lost than Mark had seen anyone else before. And he’d seen Ethan trying to do math. 

Mark’s face softened, and he took his guitar off of his shoulder. He walked over to the younger boy and put a hand on his shoulder to stop the movement, then took the page from his hands. “I mean… do you just not know how to read music?”

“These dots have meaning?”

“I’m taking that as a no, then.” Mark led Ethan over to the couch in front of the TV, pulling a pen out of his back pocket and flipping the page over. “Ok, so, you see this dot?” He scribbled down a filled black circle with a long line protruding from it. “That’s a quarter note. It gets one beat.”

“...Ok?”

Mark nodded, then wrote down three more quarter notes. “And that’s four beats. In common time, or 4/4 time, that’s a measure.”

“Common time?” Ethan looked up into Mark’s eyes, smiling sheepishly (and only blushing slightly) at the tired look he found. 

“Just… clap it out with me, ok?”

One slightly-rushed lesson on note types and rhythms, another slightly-rushed lesson on note names, one youtube trip to find a good video on how to read bass clef (“I play _trumpet_ , anything that low is dead to me”), one google search on keyboard layouts (followed by one run upstairs to find some masking tape to tape down the note names onto said keyboard) (followed by the realization that Ethan still couldn’t sight read music and the subsequent second run upstairs to find a smaller pen and write the note names onto the _paper_ ), and another youtube video, enjoyed alongside the dinner Mark’s mom had sent back down with Ethan when he got the pen, on “proper piano technique” or whatever it was called (they were too busy trying to decipher the speaker’s slurred accent to retain any actual information) later, Ethan was finally back in front of the music sheet, feeling only _slightly_ more confident. 

“I mean… I’ve got to play several notes? At once? With both hands?”

“That’s… kinda how the piano works, Ethan.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Do you wanna switch? The guitar might be easier for you at this point. You’re going to be singing too, remember that.”

“No no no, I’ve opened this can of worms, now I’ve got to lie in it.”

Mark’s face scrunched up in confusion, mouth open as if he was going to ask a question but eventually deciding against it, throwing his hands up and saying, “Whatever you say, man.”

“It just takes practice! We’ve still got… almost a month!”

“And two other songs to learn.”

“Shut up. You can sing one, if you want.”

“I was planning on it. Especially now that I know you have no clue what you’re doing.”

“Neither do you!”

Whatever Mark said next was ignored as the other boy furrowed his brow, looking from the paper to the keyboard and back again. Tentatively, he started on the opening cords. He got through about three measures before dropping his hands, turning to the older boy with the biggest grin Mark had ever seen on his face. 

“Holy shit! I… music! I did a music! Badly, yeah, but so what? Music!”

Mark couldn’t help but laugh at the pure joy in Ethan’s voice. “Yeah, you sure did. I’m proud of ya.”

“Thanks!” Ethan turned back to the keyboard, too caught up in perfecting the opening to notice Mark’s lingering gaze. 

* * *

So far at school, nothing big had really happened yet. Some people, but not many, surprisingly, were aware of the mild competition going on between Mark and Amy at the moment (nobody had bothered to mention the others who were involved quite yet), and fewer still were aware that it was because of the Battle of the Bands. Fewer _still_ knew it was because they were both in the competition with bands of their own, and those few were Brian, Jack, and the people in said bands. Needless to say, nothing to get the whole school worked up about. 

Not yet, at least.

“Ethan, hey.”

“Mark? What are you—” He was cut off by Mark’s hand over his mouth as the older boy sushed him. Ethan glared. 

“There’s nobody in here. Well, barely anyone in here, at least. Two and a half classes max. It’s third lunch.” Brian said, not looking up from his phone. “Speaking of which, is there a reason you’re here? You’ve got first.”

“Yes, actually.” He quickly snapped his hand back from Ethan as the other boy licked it. “First of all, that was _disgusting_ , second of all, before either of you say anything, I’m the furthest ahead in engineering right now, Mr. Hinkes doesn’t care if I skip class. So yes, I can be here right now.”

“That didn’t answer Brian’s question.”

“ _Third_ of all, as I was _getting to,_ Ethan, I’m here to start some shit.” 

Brian looked up at that. “Oh?”

There was a glint in Mark’s eye and a smirk on his face that Ethan was not the most fond of as the older boy stood up. And then got on top of the table. 

“Mark what the _hell—_ ”

Ignoring him, Mark cupped his hands and yelled across the room, catching the attention of everyone there. “Amy! Kathryn! You, er,” He paused, crouching back down towards Ethan. “What’s the third one’s name?”

“You don’t know Mika? She’s one of my best friends. And one of Amy’s best friends. Who is one of your best friends.”

“And Mika!” Ignoring the majority of Ethan’s speech, Mark straightened back up. “I’m here to issue a challenge!”

Laughter erupted from their table, where, by the looks of it, the three were making notes on a lyric sheet. “Give us your best, Fischbach!”

“I will!” He crouched down to Ethan again, this time holding out his hand with a grin on his face. “Get up here with me.”

“I— wait, no—”

“Too late!” Mark grabbed his hand, pulling Ethan up out of his chair and stumbling onto the table. As the younger boy got his bearings, Mark turned back to the girl’s table and continued yelling. “As you know, Ethan and I have a _band_.”

“A shit one!” Mika yelled, which got a mixed response from the now captivated cafeteria, ranging from a large number of “ooh _burn_ ”s to one very loud “LANGUAGE”, presumably from the one teacher that actually bothered to interfere. 

“No better than yours!” After the shouts died down that time, Mark threw his arm over Ethan’s shoulder, and anything the younger boy may have been thinking about saying was completely lost as Mark pulled him closer. “And at least we’ve got _comradery!_ ”

“Are you saying we’d lose just because you two are gay for each other?” Amy’s smirk was completely and utterly shit-eating. Ethan thought he’d die from that look alone, but once the words were out of her mouth, he knew he was practically six feet under.

The shouts this time were almost deafening, despite the small amount of people. Below them, Ethan could see Brian spit out his milk from how hard he laughed. Mark was yelling, too, trying to calm everyone down, and so was Ethan, but his screams weren’t to quiet anyone. More to quiet his own thoughts as they raced through his head, which was now hidden behind his hands. 

“Ok, ok, SHUT UP!” Everyone finally fell quiet and looked up at Mark, who had, for whatever reason, refused to remove his arm from Ethan’s shoulders. “I still haven’t issued my challenge yet. Please listen. God.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” yelled a voice from the other side of the room that sounded suspiciously like Brian’s. Looking down, Ethan couldn't see him beneath him and Mark anymore. That bastard. 

“That— I— That’s not important right now!” There we go. Mark’s arm finally fell. Surprisingly, or maybe less so, Ethan immediately missed the weight of it on his shoulders. It had been comforting, in a way. But it also made his brain refuse to shut up, which was annoying, and made his face heat up, which was embarrassing, so maybe it was for the best? Or maybe he should actually pay attention to Mark, since he was yelling again.

“Anyways, challenge! As you know, we’re going to be competing in this year’s Battle of the Bands!” The girls nodded, because of course they knew that, but there were murmurs starting to spread around the room. That soft noise seemed to edge Mark on, because he straightened up even more, pointing his finger at the girls. “And so will you! In fact, I’m pretty sure we’re the only two bands performing.”

“Mark, _please_ get on with your point.” Ethan finally took his face out of his hands.

“I'm getting to it! This is just the exposition, every good drama needs some background,” he whispered. “Just trust me.” He turned back to the girls one last time. “I bet you that if we win, we’ll, uhh…”

“You did that whole thing and you didn’t even have a bet planned?” Kathryn yelled. She laughed, abruptly cut off as Amy climbed on top of their own table. 

“The loser owes the other band a hundred bucks. And we get to dump three cartons of eggs on your heads, one for each of us. If you lose, of course. Which you will.” She put her hand down behind her for a high-five, which Kat and Mika both gave her. 

Ethan gasped, only a bit more dramatically than he actually felt. “That’s… wha— _no_ —”

“It’s a deal.” 

_“Mark!”_

Mark ignored him, in the middle of an air-handshake of finality with Amy from across the cafeteria. It got way more complicated than it really had any right to be, ending with them both simultaneously box-jumping off of their respective tables. Ethan stared down at Mark in shock, mainly because he knew his friend was extra, but not _that_ extra. Dear god. 

Once he was comfortably back in his seat, remaining food abandoned after he discovered that it was accidentally stepped on by Mark, Ethan sighed. Deeply. In only mild disappointment, the “mild” part of this sentence surprising even himself. “Mark?”

“Mhmm?”

“What the _fuck_.”

“What? That was fun! And now we’ve got the school hyped up, word’s gonna spread quickly. This will either be the complete opposite of last year’s show or the exact same, just worse since most of the school will actually be there. I… really hope it’s not the latter.”

Ethan sighed again, the slightest of smiles peaking through his expression as he shook his head.

“See?" Mark elbowed him, his grin growing. "I told you it was fun! And the teachers don’t care that much, I know them.”

“You mean you bribed them?”

“Maybe. You don’t know anything.”

Ethan laughed fully this time, the nerves he had from standing on the table starting to melt off of him. “Sure I don’t, Mark. Sure I don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, rereading the cafeteria scene: what in the absolute FUCK am I writing, why did I make them so EXTRA holy SHIT


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to gay idiot town, in which everyone is a gay idiot and doesn't know how to talk about their own feelings nor understand anyone else's
> 
> Also the Jims are here don't question it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why does this chapter suck ass? I don't know! I don't know. I've been writing this for the past week and a half and I can't. Quite. Exactly. Get it to work. Though I feel like it's actually fine I'm just being nitpicky but I'm still :////
> 
> Hey at least the plot's movin' forward, right? And HOO boy move forward it has

Ethan was frozen in the hallway right before first period. Not that it was his fault, he swears, more the fault of the large poster that was pinned up on the bulletin board before him. And the whispers of the crowd behind him, but he was trying his best to ignore them.

“UNUS ANNUS” it read in giant letters across the top. Along the bottom was the words “‘We don't have a slogan yet, but when we do, it will be good. We swear.’ -Mark Fischbach.” The middle part was taken up by a large icon of an hourglass with a skull in each part. The whole thing was black and white with a large spiral in the background. On top of that, it was laminated, and appeared to have been printed out, not handmade. If Ethan didn’t know where the fuck the poster had appeared from, he would have thought it looked pretty decent. 

The problem was that he  _ didn’t _ know where the fuck the poster had appeared from. It had been a full week and a half since he signed up for the Battle of the Bands, and about four days since the fiasco in the cafeteria. The school had nearly split in two as everyone followed the competition, each side rooting for one of the bands. Ethan’s popularity had skyrocketed, with about half the school following him around on a daily basis. Like right now. The crowd had almost certainly blocked the hallway by this point, but Ethan couldn’t be bothered to turn around and force everyone to leave. He was more focused on the mystery of the poster. 

Literally anyone who was on his and Mark’s “side” of the competition could have put it up, granted they were stalker-y enough. Which he didn’t put past a lot of them, quite honestly. (Especially Mark’s twin cousins, who had a camera and a microphone and had taken to cornering anyone who they thought had a story. This Battle of the Bands thing was a story, apparently. And Ethan was the easiest one to corner.)

But he did know that icon. Mark had designed it during practice in the basement the other day, saying that they “needed a logo” so they could “have matching shirts” and “look cool” (“not, like,  _ gang _ cool, we’re not a gang, Ethan. Stop looking at me like that,  _ we’re not a gang, _ just because this has skulls doesn't mean it’s a gang symbol! Shut up!” “I’m not saying anything!”) That narrowed the suspect list down to about one. Or possibly more, if there  _ really _ was a stalker on the loose. He pulled out his phone and took a quick picture of the poster before opening his texts with Mark.

_ care to explain??? _

_ [image attachment] _

_ oh shit! _

_ uhhhhhh _

_ it looked cool? and maybe i wanted to get hype up? _

_ hype is up FAR enough _

_ hype has long since breached containment _

_ if anything i’d like to get hype back down, maybe then your cousins can stop stalking me _

_ hey, u didn’t tell me abt signing me up for this bullshit, i get to not tell you abt something too _

_ its only fair _

_ and if the jims are giving you trouble i can beat them up _

_ or steal their camera _

_ don’t do that they’re nice enough _

_ also they definitely have more than one camera brian tried that already _

_ they’re my cousins and they're annoying I can do what I want _

_ fuk u _

_ and of course they do they’re the jims _

_ also get to class bby the bells about to ring _

_ hey wait did you just call me baby?????? _

Ethan barely had time to process that had just happened when the bell did, in fact, ring. Right on time. Luckily, it was only the warning bell, so he pushed through the crowd behind him (that had  _ refused _ to disperse for whatever reason) and ran down the hall, ignoring the few people that followed him and their shouted questions and sliding down into his desk right as the final bell rang. 

As Ethan later learned, that was not the only poster up around the school. Far from it, actually. And by lunch, the girls had posters of their own, often times putting them up over the Unus Annus ones. By the end of the day, he found at least three Unus Annus posters that had been vandalized with sharpie. Each vandalism had different designs, too, which.  _ Wow. _ He hadn’t expected anyone to be  _ that _ dedicated. Sheesh. Anyone who somehow didn’t know about the upcoming Battle of the Bands was now riled up alongside the rest of the school. Which was… great. Just great! Working wonders on his stress levels, truly. 

There were some good parts to it, though. Like trading shouted insults through barely withheld laughter with the girls from across the cafeteria, as he found himself doing later that day. And the vandalized posters looked nice enough, actually. Whoever did it certainly improved upon Mark’s designs. He ended up pulling one of them down and taking it home. He quickly found himself becoming more confident, despite his misgivings earlier. Because, well, if he was going to be a school celebrity, he may as well have fun with it. Having fun was certainly better than being stressed, at least.

* * *

“We need a ballad.”

“A what?”

“A… you know, a slower song. One we can play in the middle, give people a bit of a break.” 

Ethan looked up from where he was practicing over at Mark, who was ignoring his guitar in favor of fervently scrolling through his phone. They were both back in Mark’s basement again, the school day having ended only a little while ago. “I mean, I  _ don’t _ know, but sure, man! Whatever sounds good.” He went back to practicing his piano part as he hummed the words (seriously though, this amount of eighth notes in a row should  _ definitely _ not be allowed), ignoring Mark’s half-glare at his lack of input.

A couple minutes later, Mark spoke up again. “How about The Sound of Silence?”

“The… Isn’t that a meme?”

“Exactly! It’s perfect! It shows how we’re  _ hip _ with the  _ youth.” _

“Mark, we  _ are _ the youth.”

Mark, quite childishly, stuck his tongue out in response. “Shut the  _ fuck _ up I know what I’m talking about.”

“Fine, fine! Do you have music for it?”

“Well, actually…” he paused as he pulled up the music on his phone and plopped down on the couch behind Ethan. “I was thinking that it would be mainly me playing the instrumentals for this one? It doesn’t really need the piano.”

The other boy hummed, leaning on the back of the couch until he was at an angle that allowed his face to bend down in front of his friend’s phone as his legs dangled in the air behind him. “So you’re saying you’re trying to get rid of me?”

“What?! No, not at all! I still need your beautiful, beautiful voice, after all. This song  _ is _ mostly harmonies.” Mark laughed a bit, turning his head to Ethan, only to find his face only inches away, still looking at the phone. He jumped.

“Oh shit, sorry, did I scare you?” Ethan turned, a hint of genuine concern in his voice. But Mark only rolled his eyes and scoffed, seemingly unperturbed compared to how he was only seconds before. Ethan rolled his eyes back, then pushed himself back off the couch as the other got up, placing his phone on the coffee table and his hands back on his guitar. Before he could even try to play anything, though, Mark’s mom’s voice rang down the nearby stairwell.

“Mark? Your cousins are here, they wanted to talk to you?”

Mark sighed, reaching over to turn off his phone before yelling back. “Which ones?”

“Which  _ ones?”  _ Ethan whispered incredulously. “You have  _ more  _ cousins?” 

Mark just dismissively waved his hand as his mom continued. “The Jims, sweetie, I think they want to interview you? Ethan, too.” Vague noises of attestment were heard alongside her as she said that. 

“Uhh…” Mark looked over at Ethan, who shrugged despite his small wince upon hearing exactly who it was, then called back up to his mom, “Yeah, sure! Let ‘em down, I guess.”

As the twins thundered around the house to get to the basement door, Ethan looked over at Mark with wide eyes. “What do you  _ mean _ you have more cousins? How many? How have I not known about this?”

“There’s, uhh… A lot? Of them.  _ So _ many, like at  _ least _ 16? 17? I think? Family reunions are literal hell, pretty much. Also none of them live around here besides the Jims, so it’s not  _ that _ important? You  _ really _ don’t need to know about them right now, trust me—”

The Jims finally landed on the floor of the basement, whichever one that was holding the microphone doing a surprisingly agile sumersault as he got down from the final step. Standing, he looked back at the camera, which the other twin was already holding up and presumably recording with, never bothering to fix his own hair, which had become a mess from the sumersault. Now that he really got a close look at the two (instead of running as far away as he could at the first sight of them, as he usually did), Ethan was surprised to see how similar they were, both in appearance and in mannerisms. No wonder nobody could tell them apart. 

“And here we are,  _ in _ the recording studio for the tied-for-first most popular band Riverside Central High School has  _ ever _ seen: Unus Annus!”

“We— we don’t record in here, you know that—” Mark took a step forward as the Jims continued to explore the basement. The camera quickly spun around towards him, and Ethan could see the lens move as it presumably zoomed in close on Mark’s face. 

“ _ Do _ we though? The secrets of the universe are expansive, no one knows what could be waiting for them around the corner.” The microphone one ran up to Mark and stuck said microphone in his face, accidentally knocking his head back. Neither moved. Ethan watched as the lens zoomed in far further than what probably was a good zoom point. There was complete silence for a good two seconds before the microphone was taken out of the face and the Jim ran back to his brother. 

His face was neutral as he turned back to the camera, continuing his narration. “Hello, Riverside Central, this is Jim, better known by the public as RJ, alongside by trusted brother and cameraman, Jim, better known as CJ.”

In the background of the shot, Mark and Ethan could be seen whispering between themselves as RJ continued speaking far too seriously than any highschooler honestly had the right to. Their whispers were lost as background noise, but the camera did turn and slowly zoom in just in time to capture Ethan as he reached his hand up to check Mark’s face and the subsequent slap on said hand that followed. 

The younger boy glared, shaking his hand off. “Wait, they have actual names? Not just Jim?”

“First of all, I  _ just _ told you that my face is  _ fine, _ he didn’t actually hit it, second of all, yes. Of course. It’s just that their middle names are the same. How do you not know this, they’re on the school news, like, every week. They’re literally the main reporter and cameraman.”

Ethan made a face. “Our school has a news?”

“Do you seriously know  _ nothing?” _

“Maybe. Maybe not. What’s it to you, smart boy?”

Mark laughed, shaking his head, unable to make a good comeback before Ethan turned back to the twins, who were now closely investigating his keyboard, experimentally poking at a few keys. 

“But, like, how do you even tell them apart?”

“CJ has the camera, hence the C, RJ’s the reporter and usually talks more, hence the R.”

“Wait, you’re telling me that that their initials are based on their  _ camera equipment _ —” 

Ethan was cut off as the Jims returned from their walk around the rest of the basement. The camera was fixed on Mark and Ethan once more, with RJ bouncing on his feet as he paced around for the interview. 

“So, Unus Annus!”

“Yep!” Mark grinned.

“That’s us!” Ethan said, resting his elbow on Mark’s shoulder and giving a cheeky wink at the camera.  _ What the hell am I doing? _ he thought as he watched the camera zoom in on his face specifically.  _ Having fun, _ he eventually decided, before wiggling his eyebrows and winking again as RJ asked the first question. 

The interview started out normal enough, RJ asking the pair about how the band started, what songs they were planning on performing, things like that. Ethan was not quite ready to tell anyone that literally everything about the band up to that point had been 70% a huge miscommunication on his part and 30% pining (also on his part), and Mark’s ego had become too inflated by then for him to even  _ consider  _ telling anyone that he hadn’t wanted to be in the band at the beginning, so they were pretty much screwed right off the bat in the answers compartment. Though Ethan was quite proud of the improvised story that they quickly came up with. (“My father was a pianist, actually, and I’ve always wanted to follow in his footsteps. I’ve been playing for years, of course, but this is my first true chance to perform in front of an audience as big as this one.” “Yes, yes. And who am I do deny my friend his big break?”)

Then the bigger questions started. The small group had moved onto the couch, after convincing both Mark and Ethan to give a preview of their parts in the music. Well, Mark and Ethan sat on the couch, the twins circled it like anxious vultures. Mark still clutched his guitar, picking idly at the strings as the younger boy tried not to get dizzy from watching the other two move. 

“So, deepest question so far, the one that we’re sure everyone’s been dying to know, you’ve got the whole school curious, you’ve got us curious, you’ve probably got  _ yourselves _ curious—”

_ “Please _ get to your point, RJ,” Mark said, pausing his playing but not looking up.

“Is it true that the two of you are dating?”

Ethan froze, eyes still locked on the camera as he watched it zoom in on his face.  _ God _ he hoped his expression wasn’t too telling of… anything, really. There was so much going on inside his head. 

Mark, however, barely hesitated before simply stating, “No,” if maybe a bit  _ too _ loud, then returning to his idle strumming. If Ethan had been paying attention, he might have noticed the pickup in speed, as if Mark was just as nervous as he was. As it was, Ethan furrowed his brow and turned to his friend. 

What the fuck did that mean? Well, it was  _ true, _ sure, but the lack of hesitation? Would he not want to date him  _ ever? _ Did he not return Ethan’s feelings? Probably not, actually, seeing as Ethan hadn’t exactly seen any evidence to support that possibility. But did that mean that Mark could see through his pining?

Did he  _ hate him? _

Was Ethan just overthinking this??

That last one was probably true, actually, so Ethan shook himself out of his stupor and looked back up at the Jims. RJ’s eyebrows were raised expectantly, as if expecting some sort of feedback from the younger boy.

“I— uh… Yeah, he’s right, we’re not. Not sure why people  _ think _ that but, uhh…”  _ Have fun with this, you’re supposed to be having  _ fun _ with this, unrequited feelings are  _ not _ fun go back to being cool  _ now _ , please _ , he yelled at himself. Forcing his face into a smirk and the unwanted thoughts from his head, Ethan winked at the camera again. “So if anyone wants some Nestor lovin’ then I’m, uh, open. Wait, fuck, no not like  _ that _ I just— I’m… available.” Another wink for good measure.

Mark scoffed, but it sounded half-hearted. “I really don’t think you’re allowed to say that.”

“We can bleep it out,” said CJ. “Not sure about the ‘open’ part, but it’s whatever, nobody  _ actually _ cares about the content on our show.”

“Yeah, well, neither do we, so…” Mark finally looked up, scooting over a bit so his was pointedly turned away from Ethan’s before he continued, “Scram. You’ve overstayed your visit by, like, a good bit. We’re not taking anymore questions at this time.’

“We’re not? But there was still more stuff they wanted to ask about. Like that logo! And the posters! The ones you designed and hung up around the school! ” The twins nodded vigorously as Ethan looked back at the older boy, but Mark still refused to look at him. 

“I don’t care. And I think we’re done with practice today, too. My mom can take you home if your dad’s busy or whatever.”

“But we haven’t even started practicing the new son—”

“It’ll be  _ fine.”  _ Mark jumped up from the couch, throwing his guitar strap over his shoulder and putting it back on its stand. He still wasn’t looking at Ethan, but everyone could tell he was  _ fuming  _ as he walked back over to the staircase, pausing on the first step. “Just— I don’t want to talk right now. I need to think. Or something. See ya, Eth.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ethan could see the twins fixing their camera on the stairwell as Mark left before quickly turning back to him, but he couldn’t care less. His worst fear had come true— Mark hated him, surely. And he wasn’t quite sure why. Faintly, he heard the basement door slam.

Well this fucking sucked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Why, exactly, are the Jims here??? And why are you implying that all of the egos exist in this universe and they're all Mark's cousins we're just never going to see them??????" I hear you asking. And that's a good question! 
> 
> Fuck if I know!
> 
> (To be honest, actually, this fic is chaotic enough, I've long since passed the point of no return so I may as well go all out)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> teen angst, coming outs, and interventions 
> 
> (or, well, the discussions of interventions, at least)
> 
> also I cried writing the first part, tho that might just be bc I'm jealous of the bond I wrote for Ethan and his dad hhh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, originally, this chapter was going to be three parts instead of the normal two, with the middle part being pretty short, but then I finished that part and realized that my writer's block was a BITCH and I didn't have any ideas for the third part, so. Sorry the second part's a bit short, I hope the length of the first part makes up for it just a bit. This is still like 2.5k words I don't know what I'm on abt but shhhh everything's all well and good in the end. Albeit a bit dialogue-heavy.
> 
> Also sorry for being two and a half weeks late lol

Ethan lay in bed, staring up at his phone. The bright light coming from it was a sharp contrast from the darkness of the rest of the room, illuminating his exhausted face. He was switching between Youtube and his messaging app every couple of minutes, hoping in vain that Mark had finally responded to at least one of the many texts Ethan had sent. 

Or at the very least not just left him on read again.

Acknowledge him.

_Anything._

It had been a full week since the two boys’ “fight”, if you could call it that, and Mark had been completely ghosting Ethan in every way possible. Even in ways the younger boy didn’t think _were_ possible! How does he do that?!

The keyboard had been dropped off during school the day after the interview with copies of the music for both of their songs taped to the back, along with a note that simply said “keep practicing”. The Unus Annus posters stopped going up, and people started to glance at Ethan weirdly as they whispered in the halls, and if the boy didn’t know better, he would have thought that Mark broke up the band. He wouldn’t respond to texts, he refused to come downstairs and face him the one time Ethan was actually bothered to go over to his house and knock on the door, and once during school, the _one_ time Ethan had seen his friend the whole week, they made eye contact from across the hall and froze, only for Mark to duck his head and practically sprint in the other direction. 

It was horrible, in other words. And if Ethan was frantically refreshing his messages with the other boy between blasting “Tainted Love” on repeat and trying not to cry as he sang along, well, that was his own business. 

“Ethan?” There was a knock on his bedroom door, and his dad’s voice rang out from the hallway. “Ethan, bud, you ok in there? It’s after midnight.”

Ok maybe it wasn’t _entirely_ his own business if his singing and almost-crying took place in the middle of the night. 

Scrambling to pause the music, Ethan flipped on the lights and walked over to his door but hesitated before opening it. Tentatively turning the handle, he was faced with his father blearily glaring behind him through the light of the bedroom. The man’s gaze quickly focused on his son, however, as the boy hurried to wipe his eyes dry.

“Whoa, hey, what’s wrong? And why are you crying along to 80’s breakup songs? At,” Ethan’s dad glanced down at his watch as he continued speaking, “12:17 am, might I add.”

“Okay, one, it’s not ‘songs’ if I’m just listening to one on repeat, and two, I’m not _crying.”_ Ethan finished wiping away the tears from his eyes as he opened the door a bit more.

“Emotionally singing along, then. Happy?” The man smiled slightly, hoping to get a similar response from Ethan, but the teen just sighed and walked back to his bed.

 _“No,”_ he said, picking up his phone and quickly checking his messages again. Still nothing new. Of course. “It’s just… It’s stupid, actually. I’ll turn off the music and go to bed. Sorry for waking you up.”

“Nononono, I’m already awake, there’s no going back now. Besides, the best wisdom comes during the witching hour, everyone knows that.” Ethan did smile at that, just a bit, and his dad took that as a win. 

“I mean, I _don’t_ know that, also I think the witching hour’s at three am, but sure, Dad, whatever you say.”

“The _wisdoming_ hour then, when the wisdoms are most active.” The man moved to the edge of his son’s bed, patting his leg consolingly as he sat down. “But the only way you’re going to get one is if you tell me what’s up. So spill.” 

“I _told_ you, it’s _stupid,_ you can go ahead and go back to bed! I’ll be fine!”

“I am _not_ going to bed, and if you aren’t going to tell me then I’ll have to guess.”

“No, don’t, please.”

“Then tell me!”

“... Also no.”

“Okay then.” Ethan’s dad thought for only a second before continuing: “Did you get dumped?”

“I— no, Dad, I’m single.”

“Because you got dumped?”

“I’ve _been_ single.”

Ethan’s dad glared a bit, thinking again. “A girl you like started dating someone?”

“No. I, well— yeah, no. But…” Ethan started thinking now, furrowing his brow before ultimately shaking his head and nodding to his dad to continue.

His dad, however, did not continue, instead raising his eyebrow in question. “But…?”

“It is about someone I like, he’s just… not a girl.”

_“Oh.”_

“Yeah! Oh!” Ethan chuckled, albeit nervously. “We’re really getting into the wisdoming hour now, huh?”

His dad chuckled, too. “You can say that again.” There was silence for a minute, filled with Ethan shaking his leg at increasing speeds until he spoke up again.

“Is that… ok?”

“Is that— wha— _yes_ , of course it is, I’m just still trying to figure out why you were listening to ‘Tainted Love’ full blast in the middle of the night.” When Ethan sighed in relief, he quickly looked up at his son again in concern. “Were you worried about telling me that?”

“I mean… yeah? I worried about everything, Dad, and that was kinda big. Sort of. Well, actually, really big. I don’t know. Yeah.”

“Well, for future reference, you shouldn’t be worried about stuff like that around me, ok? Even if I don’t really get it at first, I’m here for you. No matter what. I love you.”

“Okay. Love you, too.” Ethan smiled. “Thanks.”

His dad grinned in response, reaching back over to Ethan’s knee again and shaking it good-naturedly. “Of cours—” The man suddenly froze, his grin growing impossibly bigger as his face lit up in revelation. “This is about Mark, isn’t it?”

Ethan laughed fully this time, hiding his face behind his hands. “Noooo, fuck, you weren’t supposed to figure it out that fast.” 

“So it _is_ about Mark! Damn, I really should have seen it sooner.”

“What do you mean ‘seen it sooner?’”

“Well, one, you haven’t been to a band practice at his place all week when you used to go literally _every_ day, even after _gymnastics,_ which is saying something considering how tired you usually are after that. Two, you’ve been moping every time his name’s been brought up. Or the band.”

“I don’t _mope—”_

“You’re doing it right now. I literally just walked in on you moping hard-core.”

Ethan just rolled his eyes. “Got a third?”

“Third, I’ll bet five bucks your phone is open to your texts with him because he’s been ignoring you all week and you’re hoping against hope that he’ll respond to the _several_ texts you’ve sent just in the past couple of days.”

“... I don’t have any cash on me right now, sorry.”

“Ok, I was kidding on that last one, this is… worse than I thought, isn’t it?”

Ethan fell back onto his bed with a huff as he put his head in his hands. “You’re telling me! He fucking _sprinted_ in the other direction when I saw him at school a couple days ago. I don’t even know what I did wrong! And he won’t tell me! It’s so stupid! _He’s_ so supid! And cute! And smart, and brave, and strong, and _handsome,_ and a bunch of other things and he won’t _fucking talk to me_ and I just! Agh! Fuck!”

“Well… what happened?”

“I don’t know! He just… kicked me out after our last practice, hasn’t talked to me since.” When his dad said nothing, Ethan sighed, taking his hands off his face as he continued. “His cousins were over there, the annoying twin ones, you know, interviewing us for the school news or something—”

“Riverside Central has a school news?”

 _“That’s what I said,_ but _yeah,_ apparently. One that I’m gonna be on now, I think. Anyways, they asked us if we were together, because people have been gossiping about that according to them, and we both said no! Because we’re not!”

“But you’d like to be.”

“Well, yea— Wait, shut up, I haven’t finished my story yet, Dad.”

“Oh, yeah, no no, go on. I’m listening.”

“Ok, they asked us if we were together, Mark said no, I… may have gone a bit too far in how I handled the question, actually.”

“How so?”

“I mean, I just joked about being single, I guess. I didn’t want Mark to know that I like him. So I may have played up the whole ‘we’re not together’ just a bit. Maybe a lot. So he knew I _totally_ didn’t like him.”

“And he may have taken that a step too far?”

Ethan groaned. “Pretty sure he hates me now, actually.”

His dad whistled, sitting back as he thought. Ethan brought his hands back up to his face in the silence, contemplating and reevaluating every decision that led to him being in a band with Mark in the first place. Why the actual hell did he sign himself up for this.

Eventually, Ethan peeked out from behind his hands. “Caught a wisdom yet?”

“Shh, almost. Trick is to ambush ‘em. Give me a couple of minutes, I’ll have one in my grasp for sure.”

“Please hurry, I’m dying of wisdom-starvation over here.”

His dad chuckled, shaking his head as peaceful silence took over the room once more. Only a few seconds later, though, he spoke up again. “Do you think that maybe… he likes you back?”

Ethan snapped his head up uncomfortably from where he was still lying down. _“What.”_

“No, seriously! Think about it, he kicked you out right after you were _adamant_ about the two of you not being together. And by the way you made it sound, he seemed to answer the question pretty quickly. Maybe he wanted to get past it as fast as possible because he _likes you._ Maybe he thinks _you_ hate _him.”_

“Nope! Impossible! You’re getting my hopes up, _please_ don’t get my hopes up.”

“But that’s my job! To give you hope in your bleak romantic situations!”

“You’re giving me too much hope right now, the wisdoms have given me food poisoning, I want to go to bed.”

“Ok, ok! I get it, I’ll shut up.” Ethan’s dad stood up, pausing and turning back into the room when he reached the doorway. “Just promise me you’ll talk to him? Or try, at least. Corner him in a dark alleyway if you have to. Just get him to stop the silent treatment, watching you mope all day isn’t fun. You can quote me on that, tell him I said that.”

“I will.” Ethan smiled. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

* * *

 _SLAM_ “Ethan.”

“Hey Amy.” Ethan didn’t even look up, continuing to idly scroll through his phone as he ate his lunch with his other hand. “You gonna sit down?”

“It's all of us, actually,” said Mika, at the sound of whose voice Ethan did look up, seeing all three girls standing next to his table. It was Kathryn who had slammed her tray down, thankfully empty, and Amy was already moving to grab chairs for the three of them. “Brian, I hope you don’t mind us sitting here.”

The other boy looked up, quickly swallowing his food. “Oh, no, of course, this is honestly the most interesting thing that’s happened all week.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ethan glared.

“What, everything has to have a double meaning now?”

 _“No,_ it’s just that you said that in _that_ tone of voice. You know the one.”

“I mean, now that you and Mark aren’t talking anymore—”

Kat cut in, knocking the boys out of their conversation. “So that _is_ true, then? The interview on the news wasn’t a bit?”

“Did _everyone_ know about our school’s news besides me?”

“Yes,” Amy said right as Mika and Brian both said “No,” leaving the latter two to glance suspiciously at the former. 

“I only learned about it when the Jims interviewed us,” Mika said.

“I didn’t know about it at all?? What the fuck do you mean we have a news? Shouldn’t this be something people talk about?” Brian quickly shifted his gaze from Amy to the others at the table, who all either shrugged or shook their heads fondly. 

“As we were _saying,”_ continued Kat, “You really haven’t talked to him this week? At all?”

Throwing his hands up in defeat, Ethan shook his head rapidly. “I mean, I’ve tried! But he won’t answer my texts, or the door, or even, like, stand in the same hallway as me. Apparently. It sucks. I just want him to… We need to be on speaking terms if we’re gonna win the Battle of the Bands, that’s all. Or practice. We haven’t exactly been… No, wait, I’m not going to tell you that. Mark and I are fine, actually.”

“But you two haven’t been talking to each other all week?” Amy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“... Not exactly, no.”

The three girls looked at each other, having a conversation with their eyes that went far too fast for the boys to even try to keep up with, before turning back to Ethan.

“We’re staging an intervention.” Mika reached her hands out to Ethan’s, grabbing his, but Ethan pulled back only for his hands to be re-grabbed by Amy, forcing him to make eye contact with her as she smiled sweetly. He glanced over to Brian to see if he would be any help. The other boy, of course, would not be, as he was simply laser-focused on the interaction unfolding before him while shoving the rest of his lunch in his mouth. 

“Wh- what for? If I’m allowed to ask?” Ethan finally managed to get his hands away, awkwardly folding them in his lap.

“For you two to start talking again, because you’re both idiots when it comes to your feelings and, contrary to popular belief, we do actually care about you. And not just because of this competition.” Amy smiled again. “You’re our friends! And it sucks watching this all go down. We want to help.”

“And yet you called us idiots?” Ethan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“She meant it lovingly,” Kat said.

Mika shrugged, chuckling. “Well, I mean, she isn’t _wrong.”_

Ethan smiled despite himself. “Shut up.”

 _“Anyways,”_ Amy continued, “Meet us at Mark’s place this afternoon, right after school. Well, not _all_ of us, Mika has DnD today.” Beside her, Mika nodded. “But we’re going to take pictures for her. And we’re going to get you two together whether you like it or not.”

“...’Together?’” Ethan asked, skeptical.

“As friends, of course.” Kathryn smiled. “Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

There was silence for a few seconds, broken only by Brian chewing quietly beside the other boy. 

“Well!” Mika said suddenly, picking up her tray as she got up from the table. “Glad we’re all in agreement. See you later, Eth. Or, well, not that much later. I’m holding you to those pictures, Amy.”

“Yeah, of course! I would have taken them anyways, this is a big moment in the boy’s lives.”

“We’ll put a slideshow together for their wedding,” Kat said, starting to laugh as she got up to walk away with Mika.

“Our— shut _up,_ Kat, I swear to god—” Ethan cut himself off with a sigh, dropping his head into his hands to try and hide his laughter from his friends’ banter. And if thoughts of marrying Mark were now racing through his mind at a hundred miles an hour making him blush like an idiot, well, that was— actually they _weren’t._ Of _course_ they weren't. He was _not_ blushing. So _shut up._

Amy laughed, seeing right through him. “See you in a few hours, Ethan.”

His farewell “See ya” was slightly muffled through his hands, and he kept his head down as the girl left. 

He could not _wait_ for this afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry that cut off a bit fast! My brain won't come up with new ideas (though I still 100% know how everything's going to play out, it's literally just the intervention scene that's giving me trouble) and it's just been making me edit everything the past few days. Speaking of which, I added a couple things to some of the previous chapters, nothing very big, just a couple minor edits here and there, also I changed the announcement poster at the beginning of the fic (that used to be the summary) (which is why I changed it, I originally had to cut it down a bit so all the html text could fit in the word count for the summary box, so now it's in its original form, which is a bit longer and funnier) (also sorry for rambling a bit, I do hope y'all have a wonderful day) (leave kudos and comments if you liked this, really keeps the confidence going)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan: Singing ‘Tainted Love’ and spraining your ankle is actually something that can be so personal,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for being so late! Again! COVID19 is... one HELL of a stressor, y'all. I hope y'all are stayin safe. I also hope that you like this chapter! Yeah! I don't have a lot to say today, surprisingly. Enjoy!

“Why did my mom let you guys into my house again?” Mark glared up from where he sat on the couch in the basement, glancing between the two girls who stood before him nervously. Ethan also sat on the couch, but on the other side, keeping as much distance between the two of them as possible.

“Because you and Ethan have been absolute idiots with each other for the past week now, and we’re here to fix that. Isn’t that right, Kathryn?” Kathryn nodded as Amy spoke, then moved to sit on the coffee table and take out her phone. 

“We haven’t been— we’re not— I—” Mark sighed. “I just don’t see why you needed to stage an intervention about this. We can figure out our own shit. Also, Kat, are you  taking _ pictures—” _

Kathryn put her phone down, looking only the slightest bit sheepish. “We promised Mika.”

Ethan nodded. “They did, sadly. I was there.”

Mark put his head in his hands, muttering under his breath exasperatingly. Amy crossed her arms. “You guys need to talk things out. For once in your lives. Before we just lock you two in this basement together until you make up.”

“And don’t think we won’t,” said Kathryn. “We can and will stoop that low if you guys don’t cooperate.”

“There’s nothing to cooperate on!” Ethan threw his hands up. “Mark just… won’t speak to me.”

Mark snapped his head up. “Woah, hey, don’t act like you’re the only one at fault here.”

“At least I’ve been  _ trying _ to talk to you! You refuse to answer my texts, you fucking  _ ran away _ from me the other day, and you didn’t come to the door when I actaully  _ did _ come over here to talk things out without the girls forcing us to. I mean, if you hate me, I get it. Just tell me why, at least. Or talk to me. Something. My dad told me to tell you to stop giving me the silent treatment because I’ve been moping all week and that that’s ‘not fun to watch.’”

Mark laughed softly at the last part, then opened his mouth to say something, closed it, then opened it again. After almost a full minute, he finally spoke. 

“I’m sorry.”

The other three teens were shocked , to say the least. Mark Fischbach? Apologizing? They never thought they’d see the day.

Amy leaned back to whisper to Kathryn. “Did you get that on camera?”

_ “Yes, _ of  _ course,  _ holy _ shit.” _

Mark sighed, ignoring them, then turned to fully face Ethan. “I don’t hate you, man, I’m just… I don’t know. I was scared, I guess. I didn’t think that what you said to the Jims would affect me that much, but then it did, and I honestly don’t know why. I was avoiding you, I’ll admit that, and I didn’t think it would get this far. I’m sorry.”

Ethan scooted closer to the older boy, now sitting near enough that their knees brushed each other. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean what I said, and I definitely didn’t mean to make you scared.” He chuckled. “Also I don’t think spamming you with texts helped much.”

Mark chuckled, too. “Yeah, no, it didn’t.”

They laughed, and from behind them, Amy smiled. “Great! I’m glad to see you two actually talk things out like adults. One step closer to emotional maturity.”

“Oh, shut up.” Mark reached out and playfully swatted at her leg, which she gracefully avoided. 

The four friends continued to talk for a while, Amy and Kathryn both taking pictures of the two boys getting progressively closer to each other on the couch. Not that Mark and Ethan really noticed how close they were getting. By the time they decided to get up and practice (“I brought my keyboard, you guitar’s down here, I’m getting bored, can we  _ please _ just play something?” “I mean, if Amy and Kathryn are ok with hearing how much we suck?” “We’re always ok with hearing how much you two suck.” “Amy  _ please _ get that look off your face, that is  _ disgusting—”), _ Ethan was practically in Mark’s lap. The girls had gotten at least fifty pictures each. 

Mark and Ethan put on a little show of what they had practiced, even if they were a bit rusty from not being together for a full week. The girls applauded, laughing at their mistakes in a way that only high school friends could, then borrowed their instruments and put on a far better show than the boys had even tried to so far with only two thirds of their band. 

Ethan raised his eyebrows. “Wow, way to show us up.”

Amy chuckled, talking Mark’s guitar off and putting it back in its stand. “Thanks, Eth. Glad to know we’ll beat you.”

Mark pursed his lips, shaking his head. “Nah, I think we’ll get better before the performance.”

“You’ve only got a week and a half.”

“And?”

Kathryn shrugged, sitting back down on the couch. “Touché. Do you have any other songs, though? The minimum’s two, but just doing that is boring. You two don’t seem the boring type.” 

“Of course we have more songs!” Mark scoffed, then quickly turned to Ethan and whispered, “Do we have more songs?”

“Uhhh… ‘Tainted Love?’” Ethan whispered back. “I may or may not have been listening to it on repeat all week and I’ve got it memorized now. And I’ve been practicing it on my keyboard, too. So we’ve got like half of it already.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, a hopeful glint in his eyes, and brought his voice to an even softer level. “Why were you listening to ‘Tainted Love?’ On repeat? After… what happened?”

Ethan blushed, averting his eyes from Mark’s intense gaze and doing his best to banish any thoughts that Mark’s low voice may have brought to his mind. “No reason! It’s just… a good song. Yeah. Nothing to do with what the Jims or I may or may not have said last week.” He glanced back up at Mark, who was still staring at him. The older boy’s eyes glanced down to his lips, and Ethan blushed harder, his heart thudding in his chest. Their faces were only a couple inches apart, if he just leaned in— 

“Are you two done flirting or should we leave?” At the sound of Kathryn’s voice, Ethan’s eyes widened and he jumped back from Mark, who was blinking quickly at the sudden change of tone in the room. 

“We, uh, we weren’t, uh—” Ethan stammered, looking anywhere but Mark. “Shut up.”

Amy laughed, starting to head towards the basement stairs. “Of course, of course. Well, we’re going anyways, so we’ll leave you two to…” She paused, making eye contact with the both of them in turn.  _ “Practice, _ or whatever. See you guys tomorrow.” She grinned, then quickly turned and bounded up the stairs, Kathryn following her. 

As soon as they were both gone, Ethan felt Mark get up from next to him on the couch. 

“We should, um, get to practicing, like they said.” Mark chuckled. “We’re still a bit rusty. You got music for ‘Tainted Love?’”

Ethan blinked, taking a second to process the question before quickly fumbling to get his phone out. “Oh, yeah! Let me just pull it up.”

It took him a couple of minutes, but Ethan finally pulled up the link, tossing the phone over to Mark once he was done. The older boy caught it and placed it down on the stand in front of him before getting his guitar out. 

“You know, I was also thinking that we need a closer,” said Mark as he started to tune. 

Ethan hummed, jumping up from the couch. He didn’t look over at his friend, instead staring at the stairwell where the girls had just left, lost in thought. 

“Because we really need to end this show with a bang,” Mark continued. “And ‘Tainted Love’ is great and all, but I really want to get this audience  _ hyped _ before it all ends. Make them  _ really  _ remember us and all that.”

Ethan finally looked over at the older boy. “It sounds like you already have something in mind.”

“I do!”

“... Ok then, what is it?”

“You know the song ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’?”

“Oh my  _ god.” _

“So you do?”

Ethan scoffed. “Who doesn’t? But I mean, why all the buildup? That song’s… eh.” 

Mark stopped tuning, glaring at the younger boy. “What about it? It’s a perfectly good song! We’re ending our show with it whether you like it or not, man.”

“I never said it wasn’t a good song!” Ethan laughed. “Just… fine! Fine, ok, I’ll sing it. Sounds good.”

Mark humphed, the beginnings of a smile showing on his face. “Then we better get practicing, we’ve got two songs to learn.”

The following week went swimmingly, all things considered. Unus Annus was back to practicing every day, working longer and harder than they had before. They actually felt like they had a chance with this, maybe. Ethan and Mark were on speaking terms again, and Mark skipped almost every engineering class he had to sit with Ethan during lunch (much to the younger boy’s chagrin). Brian kept teasing Mark for staring at Ethan, and Ethan kept elbowing him to try and get him to shut up while also trying to hide his blush, while Mark just laughed and kept staring. 

And Ethan kept falling for his friend, and doing his best to hide it. 

(His best was not very good.)

* * *

The day before the actual show, there was a sound check. It was basically just a rehearsal but without actually performing all of the songs. Both bands would come out, plug in all their instruments and whatnot, do a preview of their show, and make sure everything sounded good. 

It was supposed to be simple.

Ethan stepped out onto the stage, spinning in a slow circle as he took in the auditorium. He frowned.

“Smaller than I was expecting.”

From behind him, Mark stepped out as well. “Well, this isn’t the main stage for the school. There’s a bigger one in the Fine Arts Building for band concerts and stuff.” He pulled his guitar out of its case and started to plug it in. “I think the big reason they used this one for the battle of the bands is that they don’t want fire damage in the main auditorium again.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.”

While the auditorium was smaller than average, it was still pretty impressive. It was in a corner of the school Ethan hadn’t actually been aware existed before that day, and he was pretty sure it hadn’t been used in years, if the smell was anything to go by. It was obvious that the place had been cleaned for the first time in ages only recently; there were still plenty of cobwebs in every corner. There were also some loose beads scattered around the floor from some event that Ethan couldn’t be bothered to wonder about that the janitors were apparently too lazy to sweep up. 

Kicking some beads out of his way and walking to the edge of the stage, Ethan looked out at the rest of the space. Amy, Kathryn, and Mika were sitting in the front row, absentmindedly scrolling through their phones as they waited for their own sound check. Mr. Scott, the head of the music department at the high school, sat in the middle of the clump of seats with a walkie talkie, presumably talking to Jack, who Ethan could barely see walking around in the sound booth in the back. He looked down at the stage itself. 

“Why is the stage, like, six feet above the floor?”

Mark glanced over. “I think it’s more like four and a half feet. But, uh, yeah, I don’t know. Just try not to fall.”

Ethan glanced back down at the auditorium floor before straightening back up. “That shouldn’t be too hard.” He started to walk back to his keyboard, which Mark had fully set up, but on his second step the floor suddenly gave out from under him.

Ethan felt a couple stray beads under his foot, making him lose his footing and stumble back. He managed to stay upright on the stage, thankfully, but a second later he didn’t feel anything under his foot anymore. He was falling. 

Completely unprepared to get off the stage in that fashion, he crumpled to the ground below. A sharp pain erupted from his right ankle, and he looked to see that his foot was bent at an unnatural angle. “Ow,  _ Fuck!” _

The room suddenly broke out into a frenzy, the few people in the auditorium quickly jumping up and rushing over to him. Ethan watched as Mark practically sprinted down the stairs at the far side of the stage until he was next to him. 

Ethan felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Mr. Scott staring down at him with a concerned gaze. “Are you ok, Ethan?”

He started to lift his leg up, wincing as gravity shifted his foot into a different position, but quickly put it down when it became too much. “I, uh. I probably will be, it’s just…” He tried to lift his leg again, gritting his teeth through the pain until it was fully stretched out. “I don’t think I can stand right now. Sorry.”

“Dude, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Mark said.

“But the sound check—”

From behind him, Jack scoffed. “We can do that on our own, Ethan, just get to the nurse already.” 

Ethan glanced down at his leg again, then back up at the small crowd around him. “Again, I don’t think I can stand.”

“Oh. That, yes.” Mr. Scott stood up, wiping the dust off his pant legs. “Mark, you take him up to the nurse. If she’s still here, that is. Get him home if she’s not. Sean, you get up on stage and make sure their instruments work, I can do the sound booth for a bit. Girls, you can go back to your seats for now.” Everyone nodded as their names were listed off, eventually wandering back to where they were supposed to be. 

Mark crouched down beside his friend, sliding his arm beneath his and slowly lifting him up. Ethan wobbled as he stood, shifting all of his weight onto his left leg. He hopped a couple times, grabbing tighter onto the older boy when his balance got off, and eventually grinned up at his friend. Once he realized how close their faces were in this position, though, he quickly looked back down with a blush. 

Mark chuckled at his expression, hugging him closer, then started to walk him through the auditorium. As they passed the girls, Mika stopped them. 

“Hey, Ethan, are you sure you’re ok? That looked fuckin' painful.”

Ethan nodded. “It’s fine, trust me. It honestly doesn’t hurt once I stopped putting weight on it.” He wiggled his leg, wincing when his foot got jostled. “Actually, scratch that, it absolutely does still hurt. A  _ lot.” _

“Well, I really hope it gets better soon. For the show, and all.”

“I can't really miss that.” Ethan chuckled. 

“Exactly! And don’t think that a cast is going to stop us from cremating you guys tomorrow.”

Mark got a look on his face at that, as if not quite understanding. “You sure that’s the right word?”

Mika grinned. “Absolutely. See you tomorrow!”

“Yeah! Tomorrow.”

The two boys watched as she sat back down with a wave before continuing to head towards to exit. When they made it outside, Ethan blinked at the sudden daylight before groaning. 

“What?” Mark looked over at him.

“The nurse’s office is on the other side of the school.”

Mark looked around them before sighing as well. “And she might not even be there, too.” At Ethan’s second groan, the older boy led him to the closest bench before pulling out his car keys. “You know what? I’ll just drive you home, that’s not worth it. She’ll probably just get you an ice pack and get your dad to take you to the doctor’s or something anyways.”

“Isn’t that what I’ll do when I get home?”

“Exactly!” Mark picked the younger boy back up before they started to make their way toward the student parking lot. “So why not just go home now? I don’t want you to get more uncomfortable than you probably already are.”

Ethan stopped his hopping, forcing Mark to stop as well. “What do you mean? The leg’s fine, I told you.”

Mark turned to face him, his arm still around the other’s waist. “No, not that, it’s just—” He sighed. “I guess I’m still worried you hate me.”

“Wow, I worried  _ the _ Mark Fishbach? Never thought I’d see it.” They both chuckled, and Ethan watched as the tension in Mark’s shoulders eased up. “But seriously dude, I’m fine. With the leg and with you.”

“You sure?”

“Am I—  _ yes _ I’m fucking sure, dude! You’re one of my best friends! I’ve liked you for ages! And on top of that, I’ve had a crush on you for the past, like,  _ month _ now—”

“Wait, you’ve had a  _ what?” _

“I’ve had a—” Ethan froze, finally realizing what he had said. “I mean- I- wait, no, I didn’t, I mean- I-  _ fuck.” _

Mark laughed, stepping closer to Ethan, never removing his hand. “No no no, I heard what you said. Say it again.”

“I—”

“Please.”

Ethan looked into Mark’s eyes, so close now. Only a couple inches apart from his own. They were filled with sincerity, and a question, as he watched them search his eyes as well. Ethan closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and leaning further into the arms around him for support. He looked back up. Mark was still staring. Yet again, Ethan knew that if he just leaned in—  _ It’s now or never _ .

“Do you like me back?”

Mark stammered, not prepared for the question. “I mean—”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

“Yes.”

“Can I kiss you?”

_ “Yes.” _

Ethan leaned in, feeling Mark’s strong arms around him, keeping him up as their lips finally came together. He smiled, pulling back a couple seconds later. Mark smiled back.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Ethan hummed. “Oh really?”

“Yes really.” Mark giggled, reaching one of his hands up to hide his grin with his wrist. “I just—  _ god _ it’s so much better than I’d imagined.”

Ethan blushed. “Want to do it again?”

“Fuck yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took them half an hour to actually make it to Mark’s car. (And Amy DID laugh at them when she caught them making out in the parking lot like ten feet from said car.)
> 
> Anyways, the next chapter is the long awaited competition chapter! And then after that there’ll be an epilogue, and then it’s over. So uh, yeah. Home stretch, y’all!  
> Also go vote on this thing (<https://linkto.run/p/G2K3FJXL>), it’s important:  
> (Also also, if you have any suggestions for the girls' band name PLEASE tell me bc I don’t have anything lol)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uhh. Uhhahahaha. I don't really have an excuse. So sorry! Its literally been 6 months! What the fuck, me! But its here now, in all its 5k word glory, AND I managed to get it done before Unus Annus ends, so it counts as a win in my book. Enjoy!
> 
> also, I don’t usually explicitly tell what point of view the story’s in, but if you’re confused about it, it switches between what’s essentially the POV of the Jims’ camera (it makes sense when you read it, trust me) to Ethan’s, like it is in the rest of the fic.) 
> 
> Oh and I know I mentioned that there was going to be an epilogue in the last chapter but I'm not gonna do that anymore lmao. This chapter took long enough

The camera shook as it came into focus, fixating on a boy with a microphone after it panned across the auditorium. In the background, Jack, Mr. Scott, and a couple of other people could be seen on the stage, setting up the last of the props needed for tonight and sweeping any remaining beads off the floor.

“Are we rolling?” The boy whispered. The person holding the camera moved their hand into view and gave a thumbs up. Nodding, the boy with the microphone straightened his posture and fixed his hair for a second before grinning at the camera. “Hello Riverside Central High School and welcome to our 7th annual Battle of the Bands! Or, well, the recording of it, at least, with special behind the scenes footage and exclusive interviews with the contestants.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m Jim, better known by you all as RJ, here with my twin brother Jim, better known as CJ, and we’re here to give you the deepest insights into our school’s greatest phenomenon. Will this year’s Battle go up in flames like last year’s did, quite literally? Or will it be the greatest thing California's ever known?” RJ grinned, borderline maniacally, as he started to creep excitedly towards the door to the backstage area. “Maybe even both! Are you ready, Jim?” 

The camera shook as CJ nodded, and RJ grinned again. “Grea—” His words were cut off as the camera’s footage ended.

* * *

“Mark, seriously, I’ll be  _ fine.” _

“Are you sure, though? The doctor said that you shouldn’t put any weight on it—”

“And that’s why I have the crutches.” Ethan sighed, using his good leg to nudge his friend (boyfriend now, actually, and he couldn’t help but smile as he remembered that) away from where he was anxiously inspecting the younger boy’s twisted ankle. It was wrapped in compression bandages, which Ethan had gotten after Mark insisted that they actually go to a doctor or something once they finally made it to Mark’s car the day before. He really wasn’t in that much pain, especially now, but he did appreciate Mark’s insistence on comforting him. Even if it was getting a little annoying at this point. “I’m only going to be without them for like, twenty minutes max. You can calm down.”

“I— Ok, sure, I’ll sit down.” Mark got up, taking a seat next to Ethan. They were in a small backstage room to themselves; Mr. Scott said that they could use it for practice and to get ready. It was filled to the brim with boxes (many of which Ethan already went through, they seemed to just have unused programs for old shows), though a small area was cleared in the middle of the room, and a short bench was set up on the wall opposite the door. Mark’s guitar and Ethan’s keyboard were waiting by the door; they were already tuned and simply waiting for Jack to pick them up and take them to the main backstage area.

They had already changed into what their outfits were going to be for the night — Mark in an all-white suit and Ethan in an all-black one, with matching t-shirts that read “Unus Annus” underneath the jackets instead of dress shirts. When Ethan first saw the the shirts, he honestly couldn’t believe Mark, saying things like “Mark, what the fuck” and “These are tacky as hell” and “Did you actually spend money to get our logo custom-printed onto two, and only two, shirts?”, to which Mark just scoffed and tossed the shirt at him anyways. 

Ethan leaned on Mark’s shoulder, basking in the soft warmth that seemed to radiate from his body. He reached out and grabbed his hand, resting them between them. They had about an hour until the show was set to start, and since the girls were going to go first, they still had a good amount of time before they were going to perform. It was nice to be able to relax a bit, in this calm before the storm.

“You excited?” asked Mark, looking down at the younger boy.

Ethan hummed, closing his eyes. “Fuck yeah, man.” He giggled, squeezing Mark’s hand. “We’re gonna do amazing.”

“I sure hope so, we’ve been practicing non-stop for like a month now.”

“I mean, we  _ did _ stop for about a week.”

“We don’t talk about that.”

Ethan laughed, sitting up and turning towards Mark. “Can I kiss you?”

“Someone could walk in.” Despite his words, Mark was beginning to smile.

Ethan pouted. “But it’s  _ fun.” _

Mark laughed this time, already leaning in. “Yeah, sure. Not like I care or anything.”

_ “Sure _ you don’t.”

* * *

“… And here is the first of the two bands, Unus Annus.” RJ stopped in front of a door, on which a piece of paper with the letters “UA” sharpied on is taped. The camera slowly zooms in on the paper, stopping only when the camera couldn’t zoom any more. “Who are they, Jim? What are their motivations? Are they really going to die in one year, like many people have been speculating? Why is their name in Latin? Why are there only two of them? That can’t be a good set up for a band.” He grinned. “All the answers are behind this door, surely. Let’s go, Jim.”

RJ took the handle and turned it, slowly pushing the door open. CJ zoomed the camera out, crouching down and shuffling so that he could angle the camera through the crack and into the room. Near the back, opposite from where the camera was, Mark and Ethan were sitting on a bench. They were facing each other, with Ethan close enough to be in Mark’s lap.

And they were making out.

“Oh my  _ god.” _ RJ’s voice was laced with disbelief and laughter, and from behind the camera, CJ could be heard chuckling softly. Though the camera was starting to shake, it was obvious what they were doing. Mark pulled away quickly, whipping his head towards the door as soon as he heard the voices. 

“Jims what— get  _ out _ , what the fuck—” He got up, ignoring the way that Ethan was starting to laugh, too. “At least knock or something, Jesus  _ christ.” _ He made his way over to the door, and the camera slowly panned up the closer he got. He was quickly towering over the twins, who were still crouching behind the door. “You look like rats.”

“We, uh…” RJ glanced back at the camera, which was quickly switching between RJ and Mark. “That’s because we are rats?”

Mark laughed, his blush of embarrassment still prominent on his face as he started inching the door closed. “Ok, well, go, uh, go interview the girls first. We’ll be ready then. And for fuck’s sake,  _ knock _ next time?”

“Hey, we’re still on school property at a school-sanctioned event, you aren’t allowed to—” The door was closed. RJ sighed, rolling over until he was standing again. “Well, come on then, Jim, we need to go bleach our brains.” As he power walked down the hallway, CJ hot on his heels, he was muttering under his breath. “He’s our goddamn  _ cousin, _ I can’t believe that he’d do such a thing on grounds as sacred as  _ school property…” _

The room for the girls’ band was actually just on the opposite side of the hall from the boys’, so the twins had to backtrack once RJ realized his mistake. They were quickly back in front of the door once more, and RJ huffed before dramatically wiping his shirt off. 

“Anyways, Jim, we’re here now in front of the room for Amy, Mika, and Kathryn’s band… What’s their band name again?”

The camera shook as CJ shrugged.

“Ah well. Yet another great mystery to solve while we’re here. They’re nicer to me than our cousin, at least. Let’s go, Jim.” He reached for the door handle, then quickly pulled back at the last second and knocked.

“Come in!” a voice from inside called out. RJ opened the door, showing the camera the interior. The room was similar to the boys’ room with the way it was set up, in that it was most likely used for storage before tonight. Amy and Mika were sitting on a bench on the wall opposite the door, with Mika doing Amy’s hair, and Kathryn was in one of the corners, tuning her guitar. 

Mika glanced up at them, confusion evident on her face. “I thought you guys were going to interview Mark and Ethan first.”

“They, uh…” RJ glanced at the camera, then back at the girls. “They were… otherwise occupied. Mark called us rats then slammed the door on us. He did say we could come back, but he did also call us rats, so. It’s debatable.” 

The camera tilted and fell a bit, as if CJ was going to say something else, but he was interrupted by Amy. 

“And by ‘otherwise occupied’ do you mean they were practically eating each other’s faces?”

“Um… yeah, pretty much.”

The girls laughed at that, not in a mean way, more in the way that you laugh at figuring out your friends did something embarrassing. 

Amy calmed down enough to talk first. “I  _ told  _ you guys that I caught them in the parking lot yesterday!”

“It’s not that we didn’t believe you!” Kat said. “We just needed proof. Speaking of proof,” she turned to the twins, “Did you manage to catch that on tape at all?”

“Oh, yeah, we did!” CJ said. “Here—” The footage was a blur for a second as he put the camera down before cutting off.

* * *

Mark was pacing around the room now. Ethan watched as he laid back on the bench, letting his head droop down over the side. Everything was upside down and his head was starting to ache from the blood rushing to it, but watching the other boy go back and forth was at least mildly entertaining. They had sent the Jims away about half an hour ago and Mark had been pacing ever since, sometimes re-tuning his guitar, sometimes fiddling with one of the old programs he had taken out of a random box and folded up, sometimes texting people (usually those “people” was just Ethan, despite the fact that he was literally on the other side of the cramped room), most of the time just wringing his hands and looking anxious. This was one of those times.

“Dude, what’s up? You haven’t talked in ages.” 

Mark finally stopped, looking over at his boyfriend. “I’m getting nervous.”

“No shit.”

Mark chuckled, then walked back other to the bench and took a seat. Unfortunately, that seat was on Ethan’s stomach, due to the fact that he hadn’t sat up yet. 

Ethan laughed, bringing up a hand and playfully shoving him. “Mark! What the fuck! Get off!”

Mark ignored him, instead dramatically looking away. “It just… what if they don’t love me? What if we don’t  _ win? _ What if they boo me off the stage and yeet tomatoes at our faces, Ethan, what will we do then?”

“Is that seriously what you’re worried about?”

Mark sighed, finally lifting himself off of Ethan and sitting down on the small part of the bench that wasn’t taken up by him. “No. I mean, yeah, sure, some part of me is worried that something like that will happen, but I also know that’s literally the absolute worst-case scenario and it’ll probably never actually go down. But also… we’ve been working for this for a month. What if it doesn’t pay off?”

“Then some of our best friends win. It’s honestly a great situation all around.”

Mark sighed again, looking uncharacteristically sad. Ethan sat up, wincing a bit as he brought his legs around, then leaned up against Mark again. “Seriously, man,” he said. “We’re going to do amazing. Everyone at this school loves you.  _ I _ love you.”

Mark glanced over at him. “It’s a bit early to say that, don’t you think?”

“I mean, yeah, sure, but I’ve loved you as one of my best friends for  _ ages.  _ That hasn’t changed just because I’m your boyfriend now and because we’ve made out twice and got caught both times.”

“Once with a camera.”

Ethan laughed. “Once with a camera, yeah. But that  _ was _ pretty funny, you have to admit.”

“No it  _ wasn’t—” _ Mark’s screech and Ethan’s responding laughter were cut off by a knock at the door. 

Ethan moved to get up, but hissed in pain when he accidentally put his weight on his bad ankle.

“Woah, you ok?” Mark’s face went from annoyed to worried in a matter of seconds.

Ethan nodded, slowly bringing his leg up and clutching at the offending ankle. “Sucks that we don’t have ice right now.”

“I can probably go find you some.”

Shaking his head, Ethan used his free hand to gesture at the door. “Your cousins are back, you idiot.” He smiled up at Mark through the pain as the other boy went to the door. “I still love you, though.”

The door opened to reveal the Jims once again, with RJ posed in what appeared to be a fighting stance. When he saw Mark at the door, he relaxed, then turned back to CJ and the camera. 

“Well, here we are,” he said, walking into the room and completely ignoring Mark in the process. “Finally with Mark and Ethan from the critically acclaimed band, Unus Annus.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘critically acclaimed’,” Ethan chimed in. “‘Incredibly hyped up’ band, sure, but I don’t think we have any professional critics here.”

Mark scoffed as he made his way back to the bench and sat down. “Doesn’t stop half the school from thinking they’re ones, though.”

RJ moved in front of the bench, holding his microphone surprisingly still between them all. “True, true. Well, are you willing to answer some questions for us? The answers to them are incredibly needed by the starving populace.”

Mark laughed. “And what exactly are they starving for?”

_ “Answers, _ Mark, what else?”

The interview was surprisingly easy. Most of the serious questions had already been asked in the interview from a couple weeks before, so this session was mostly just Ethan and Mark spinning the most ridiculous tales they could manage while trying to keep a straight face. Ethan could feel both himself and Mark relaxing as their antics went on. And before Ethan knew it, the last of their time was spent, and Jack was peeking his head through the door, signalling the end of the interview. 

“Oh, that’s where you two went.” Jack nodded to the twins as he picked up the guitar and keyboard. CJ swung the camera towards him. “The show’s about to start. If you want to catch the beginning of it for your video thing or whatever, I’d go ahead and get out there now so you can set up and stuff.”

“Oh, shit!” RJ jumped up, fixing his shirt and sprinting out the door before Jack even finished his sentence. CJ was right on his heels, tripping a bit as he looked down to switch off the camera. Jack blinked in surprise as they bolted past him.

“Are… are they always like that?”

Mark chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much. Oh don’t give me that look, you’re just as bad as them!”

“Am not!” 

“I have known you since your Irish ass moved here however many years ago, your energy levels are as bad if not  _ worse  _ than theirs.”

Ethan watched them argue with a bemused smile on his face before interrupting. “So, uh, do we need to do anything? It’s kinda boring just sitting in here, to be honest.”

Jack shook his head, adjusting his grip on the keyboard before stepping back out of the doorway. “Nah, not really. But like I said, the show starts in about five minutes, so you can go ahead and head backstage to watch and shit. Heck, sit in the audience if you want, you guys are only needed on stage after their show.”

“Sounds good to me, bro!” Mark grinned, reaching down to help Ethan stand. They watched as Jack left, presumably down the hallway to put the instruments backstage. 

Ethan turned to the older boy. “You ready?”

“Babe, you have no fucking idea how ready I am."

Ethan laughed, leaning forward and kissing his cheek quickly. “Great. Me too.”

* * *

The camera quality was shaky at first, as well as being unfocused. Quickly, though, the blurry lights smoothed out to reveal a stage a good couple of feet above the camera, its wings colorfully lit along with a dim spotlight focused lazily on the center of it. The stage was empty besides a keyboard, a guitar, and a small set of drums. From behind the camera, dozens of voices could be heard in a low murmur, but they quieted as the room’s lights dimmed and the spotlight brightened. From one of the wings, Jack stepped out, arms up triumphantly, a microphone in one of his hands. 

His entrance was met with resounding cheers, loud enough and sudden enough that CJ almost dropped the camera with a soft “oh shit”. He straightened it fast enough to watch Jack dramatically take a step back and pause before he made it to the center of the stage.

_ “Wow, _ there is a f… frick ton of you guys out tonight. I didn’t even know there were this many people at our school, jesus.” He looked genuinely surprised by the turnout, awe in his eyes as another cheer went through the crowd. “Seriously, there were like,  _ maybe _ fifteen people here last year, and two of them ended up in the hospital. Hopefully that won’t happen this time though! No pyromechanics, so probably not. Hopefully not. Or well, who  _ really _ knows, I guess. Anything can happen.” He did a little shrug with a smirk before continuing. “Anyways, hello RCHS, and welcome to our seventh annual Battle of the Bands!” 

The lights on stage started spinning when he spoke those words, and the crowd behind the camera truly went crazy. The camera shook a bit, CJ whispering a faint “jesus  _ christ” _ before focusing the camera on Jack again as the cheers calmed down. 

“As you all probably know by now, my name is Sean Mcloughlin, though most people call me Jack for whatever reason, and I’ll be your host for tonight’s battle! And it really has been one  _ hell _ of a battle in the making, hasn’t it?” He paused to let the crowd cheer again, softer this time. “On one side, we’ve got Veni Vidi Vici with Amy Nelson, Mika Midgett, and Kathryn Knutsen, all juniors, can you give it up for them?” The crowd yelled, a good half of them making significantly more noise than the others. “And on the other side we’ve got Unus Annus with Mark Fischbach, a junior, and Ethan Nestor, a sophmore. Can you give it up for the boys?” The crowd cheered again, the other half getting louder this time. 

“Are you ready to get this show on the road?” The entire crowd enthused this time, causing CJ to curse again and actually turn towards the people behind him. Every seat in the small auditorium was taken, with plenty of people who couldn’t have seats standing in what could be seen of the back. Through the mass of students, CJ eventually focused on Mark and Ethan, who were leaning against a wall close to the stage. The camera was shaky as it zoomed in on the two of them, and it was hard to make out what they were doing through the blur and the darkness, but one could almost see as Mark whispered something into Ethan’s ear and as the younger boy swung his crutch at Mark’s shin and hit him softly. Mark just laughed, though the sound was lost across the auditorium. 

“Dude, you’re gonna miss it.” RJ’s voice cut through the audio, and the camera quickly whipped back towards the stage and zoomed back out. Amy, Kathryn, and Mika were all already in their places, and the colored lights on the stage shifted as the girls nodded to each other. 

Then the music started.

* * *

Holy  _ shit _ the girls were good. 

Like, incredibly so. To say Ethan was daunted was an understatement.

"Huh," Mark said from beside him. "You know, I wasn't exactly expecting this from them."

"What, did you think they were going to be shit?" Ethan giggled as he tried to gasp dramatically. "I can't believe you, Mark, doubting our friends like that."

"I never said I  _ doubt  _ them! I just thought that they would be a bit closer to our level."

"So… shitty?"

"Yeah."

Ethan laughed, then turned his attention back to the band on stage. They were mesmerizing-- Amy's presence on stage as the lead singer captivated the audience, Mika was an absolute god on the drums, and Kathryn's grin as she played her guitar pulled it all together. The songs were unfamiliar, though. Possibly originals? But that didn't mean they were bad, not by any degree.

The band was on their last song. Ethan glanced over at the audience behind him, their cheers stirring a sick feeling in his gut. He shifted on his crutches, chewing on his lip. 

"Hey, hey." Mark nudged the crutch closest to him, bringing the younger boy's attention to him. "Don't tell me  _ you're  _ nervous now."

"And what if I am?"

"Well…" Mark clicked his tongue, thinking. "I'd tell you there's nothing to worry about. That even I, the great Mark Fischbach, was feeling nervous earlier but I have since realized that showing weakness is stupid."

Ethan scoffed, a smile coming back to his face. Mark smiled back. 

"And then I'd take your hand--" the older boy did just that-- "and I'd tell you to look forward to the good luck kiss I'm going to give you once we're backstage."

Ethan blushed. "Can't wait."

Backstage, as it were, came sooner than they thought. The girls wrapped up with a band and the curtains closed to resounding cheers, and Mark started guiding Ethan up the stairs to the wings of the stage right as the girls were getting off. 

"Good luck." Kathryn bumped into Ethan's shoulder as she walked by.

Mark scoffed as he shoulderied his guitar and tucked Ethan's keyboard under his arm. "Not that we'll need it."

Once the girls were gone though, Mark turned and quickly snuck a peck to Ethan's forehead. The younger boy blushed dramatically as Mark tried and failed to hide his smile. 

"I thought you said we didn't need good luck," Ethan whispered.

"Well  _ I  _ don't," Mark whispered back. "You might though."

"Uh huh."

Jack walked up behind them, making Ethan jump when he cleared his throat. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Uhh no!" Mark grinned as innocently as he possibly could. "Nothing at all! Please lead the way, oh great and mighty Mr Mcloughlin!"

Jack rolled his eyes but ushered the two of them on stage nonetheless. He hastily pointed out the tape on the ground where they were to stand since they weren't able to make most of the practice the day before and weren't able to see them beforehand. Ethan hobbled over to his spot, reluctantly handing over his crutches when his keyboard and microphone were placed in front of him.

Smiling, Mark glanced over at him. This was their last moments before the curtains raised again, before the spotlight shone on them and they would be  _ stars,  _ immortalized in the school's history forever. "You ready?"

"I sure fuckin' hope I am, dude."

To be honest, Ethan was shaking. Whatever nerves Mark had been feeling before the show must have been  _ nothing  _ compared to what Ethan was feeling as he traced his fingers over the keys. He swallowed down the twisting feeling in his stomach and smiled. 

The curtains rose.

Mark nodded at him, and Ethan began the first chords of the song.

Ethan would like to say he didn't remember much of the performance. That the adrenaline carried him through the show, the high energy of the crowds giving him enough to ride through each song with ease.

That was very much not the case. 

His hands shook at the drop of each cord. He wobbled often; the lack of crutches made it hard for him to keep his balance. He knew his voice wavered with every lyric that dropped from his mouth.

But he didn't mess up, and that's what mattered. And Mark was grinning at him, adoration in his eyes as he moved around the stage, as he walked up close for the ballad, as he jumped for the later songs, and that? That's what  _ really  _ mattered. Ethan grinned, and pushed through.

He just hoped it was enough.

* * *

The camera turned on and shakily focused on the darkened stage. RJ could be heard in the background, a soft "Good, we're on, you can hit lights now," said before the stage suddenly brightened to show what was on it. Jack was in the middle, and the two bands were standing behind him on opposite sides of the stage, fidgeting nervously. The Irish teen smiled, walking forward, mic and a small envelope in hand.

"Welcome back, everybody! Ready for the results?"

A few stray claps and whoops were heard in the audience. Jack chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright then.

"As you all know, these results come directly from the vote we held just now, during that short break. If you didn't vote, then ah well! Too bad, it's too late now." He chuckled. "But hoo baby a lot of you did. Which is a good thing! A very good thing indeed."

He paused as he put the microphone back in its stand. Then, he slowly brought up the envelope, holding it high above his head. "In this!" He shook it a little. "Is the name of the winning band. I'm gonna open it now. Are ya ready?"

The crowd really yelled at that, making everyone on stage grin (some more maniacally than others). 

"Alright, let's go! Three…"

He brought the envelope down, holding it in both hands.

"Two…"

He opened it. The bands held their breath.

"One…"

He took the piece of paper out. He read it. He blinked, then smiled up at the audience.

"The winner of Riverside Central High School's 7th annual Battle of the Bands is…" He glanced down at the paper one last time, just to be sure. 

"Unus Annus!"

Mark and Ethan looked visibly shocked. The crowd screamed as they took a few steps forward and Jack handed Mark the mic.

"Oh, me?" 

Jack laughed, his words lost in the auditorium as Mark finally took the mic. He stepped forward, Ethan and the girls following after him.

"Wow." Mark smiled, bathing in the spotlight. And to believe he was nervous about this before. He caught the eye of the camera and winked. CJ could be heard in the background, gagging. 

"This is quite an honor, I must say," Mark continued. "Ethan and I- wait where's Ethan? Eth, babe, come over here." He reached out and grabbed the other boy's hand, not caring about the problem the crutches produced. Soon, they were right back beside each other, in the spotlight, hand in hand. 

Mark spoke again. "As I was saying, this is an honor. Ethan and I truly cannot believe that we won. Right, Eth?"

The younger boy nodded. "You know, my question is, why on Earth did y'all vote for us?" He asked incredulously. "I didn't even know how to read music, let alone play a piano, like, a month ago. We  _ can't  _ be that good."

"Was it because of my devilish good looks?" Mark raised his eyebrows, and a few claps and cheers went up through the audience. A singular, very deep, "FUCK _ YEAH _ IT WAS!" was heard from the back of the auditorium. The camera whipped around in the responding laughter to try and spot the shouter, but whoever it was had already sat down again. What a shame.

Mark pointed out the the audience with a smile. "Hey, you know, a vote's a vote! Uh, sorry to whoever voted for us because of that though, because I am already taken." The camera zoomed in on him as he put his arm around Ethan, forcing the boy to adjust his crutches. Ethan's blush was just barely caught on film. Mark smirked, also blushing.

"But yeah, I-" He suddenly paused his speech, looking over at the girls with wide eyes. "Wait!" He exclaimed. "You guys owe us a hundred bucks!"

The girls all groaned, their arguments overlapping each other's as Ethan grabbed the mic. He awkwardly pointed one of his crutches at them as he spoke. "And the eggs! Don't forget the eggs, we get to egg you."

"Yeah!" Mark nodded aggressively. "That was part of the agreement. You can't forget the eggs."

The two groups' arguing rose into a clamor, shouted yet halfhearted insults mixed in with laughs. The camera ignored them, however, instead zooming in on Jack slowly managing to take back the microphone. He stepped forward, towards the edge of the stage, then smiled one last time.

"Thank you all for coming out tonight! That does it for this year's Battle of the Bands! Can we hear it one last time for this year's winner, Unus Annus?"

The crowd went crazy yet again. Mark looked up at the mention of the band, waving with a breathtaking grin when he realized that the applause was for him. Ethan laughed beside him, shuffling over to take his free hand in his once again, having lost it in the scuffle. The camera zoomed in on the duo as they smiled at each other.

Jack continued over the cheers. "Again, thank you and goodnight! I hope to see you next year!"

The crowd cheered again, and the camera turned off right as the lights dimmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so, originally, the girls were going to win. And then I let you guys choose and the boys won by a landslide, so uh,, Hey! You can’t have ‘em all
> 
> I wanted to say thank you all for coming on this wild-ass journey with me! This is the first ever fic that I wrote as I was publishing and then actually completed, (despite how long it took, and again, I'm so sorry about that) and you guys were a huge part of keeping me motivated. To everyone who gave kudos and commented: thank you so, so much. I love you all! You’re all wonderful people, I’m sure. Have a wonderful day, and please stay safe and keep washing your hands and wearing your masks and all that good stuff.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently nobody within the last couple of months has been able to write crankiplier without getting. INCREDIBLY horny so I'm here to change that. Or at least write at least one (1) fic for this tag that doesn't have smut in it. If you vote for me in the 2020 presidential election, I promise that-- 
> 
> Title is from "We Didn't Start the Fire", in case you didnt already know lol


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